The Once & Future Bass
by Isabelle
Summary: In Season 2, Blair finally forgives Chuck & they re-unite after their break-up; that same night, Chuck witnesses something that takes him away from the UES and Blair. Years later, he’s back to save her and those he left behind. AU. Chuck/Blair.
1. Dead Boy Walking

**Dead Boy Walking** (Chapter 1 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_)

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle  
Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)  
Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some aired Season 2 promos  
Summary: In Season 2, Blair finally forgives Chuck and re-unite after their break-up; that same night, Chuck witnesses something that takes him away from the UES and Blair. Years later, he's back to save her and those he left behind.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Lyrics: "Leaving her Alone" by Ari Hart.

A/N: I resisted doing another series; I've had trouble completing my series in the past few years, so I decided not to post until I had a few chapters written, just to pump myself up. Some years ago, I saw La Femme Nikita and this idea stems from that; the fact that a normal person is taken from their lives and made to join an organization. So those of you who are familiar with it will find some similarities.

A special thanks to my awesome BETA, Tatiana!

--

"_When we love, we always strive to become better than we are." – The Alchemist_

As he remembered her face years later, he would lie to himself and say that her eyes never told him that she loved him. Yet at the moment that it happened; at the birth of its conception, he never dared believe the lies. Lies are what kept him alive, lies created him and, in turn, he created them because what else would Chuck Bass be if not a lie he himself had constructed?

"I missed you so much," she had whispered against his mouth as they stumbled blindly into her room; grasping at air, removing clothing faster than they ever placed it on their skin.

He let the words wash over him as he grabbed her legs, she had wrapped them around his waist and he could feel the heat that emanated from between her legs as it warmed his lower belly.

"I missed you more," he said huskily. And he had, he was sure.

Her hands grasped the back of his head as he entered her and she threw her head back, exposing her throat. She was majestic. He could live a thousand years and never want anything more.

Her slick skin against his; her eyes on him, her mouth devouring him… She was his goddess.

As he lay on top of her, breathing harshly, licking the sweat from right under her breast, the words wanted to come out – they were desperately trying to fumble out.

"Chuck?" she had asked.

"Blair?" he smirked, looking up at her. She was gazing at the ceiling, her small hand playing with his hair.

"Do you think we're forever?"

God, he wanted it to be forever. Forever. Was there even such thing?

"That depends on you," he whispered, crawling up to face her. She took him in then and that's when he saw it. That look he denied so many years later.

He touched her cheek and she leaned into it, closing her eyes slowly.

"If I live forever, then yes," he had said then.

She had smiled; she was beautiful when she smiled.

"I'll live forever, too. I'll live forever with you," she whispered and closed the space between them with a kiss. A soft, intimate kiss that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

When they woke a few hours later, she began talking and he began listening. They had talked often in their short lives- she was the one who usually initiated the conversation; he was the one who often paused the conversation with his remarks or sarcastic undertone that annoyed her.

"… and then he said we could come visit him next summer, I'm sure you'll love it there. The sun looks different and everything is fresh and inviting…"

Her voice lulled him and he wished to stay buried in it for the rest of his life.

"Are you listening to me?" she demanded, giving his chest hair a tug.

"Hanging on to your every word," he had hissed and she smiled, getting on top of him and beginning their cycle once more.

"I should go, go before Dorota barges in here and hits me with a duster," he said quietly. She was between sleeping and waking and she moaned in protest, pulling him to her.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, eyes like that….

"Blair," he whispered, touching her now, touching the face that now belonged to him.

"Chuck," she had whispered back, touching his face in return. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room.

The universe was theirs.

"I've never felt like this before," he finally confessed. Her eyes shone bright in the glow of moonlight.

"Felt like what?" she had asked, a tiny glint in her eyes that told him she just wanted to hear him say it.

He couldn't look at her anymore. How many women had he seen under him, begging to hear words from him – words that he couldn't even form now?

"I…" he began, burying his fingers in her curls.

"You…" she smiled, bringing his face down so that their foreheads were touching.

It was the most intimate moment of his life and that fluttering that Blair called 'butterflies' were marching on full speed ahead.

"I… don't know how to say these things, Blair. I'm afraid you've fallen for the worst guy imaginable." He sighed and dropped his head on her shoulder.

She chuckled.

"That's not true, my boyfriend can be very romantic when he wants to be, if he wasn't so terrified half the time."

He looked up at her and nodded.

"You messed me up good, woman." He captured her lips and she moaned against his mouth, pressing her body even closer to his.

"I really have to go this time." He stood from bed, disentangling himself from her a few hours later. The light was minutes away from appearing in the sky, and they were racing against time.

"No!" She whimpered and grabbed on to his hand, sitting up on her knees. "We've been apart for so long, don't go. Please stay."

"Hey, I'll see you in a few hours. How about I pick you up? We can ride to school together," he kissed her hand. "Show the world who we are?"

She melted into him as she hugged him.

"I like this plan," she murmured as she kissed him.

He felt like a different man with this angel in his arms; brown hair cascading around her. Opening herself to him, accepting him, loving him. He never wanted to leave her. They say you don't find who you're going to love for the rest of your life in high school. How wrong they were.

He caressed her face and smiled down at her.

"Just a few hours," he promised, kissing her forehead and lingering against her for a moment before walking out. He did turn back and glance at her as he walked out. Her hair was a mess around her face, the blanket only covered her breasts and he could see the delicate curve of her hips and her eyes that looked longingly at him.

"Just a few hours," she repeated softly before he closed the door behind him.

When the door of the limo closed behind him, he couldn't control the smile that had permanently etched itself on his face. Driving through New York, his heart felt light and bouncy. Like he wanted to jump out and start a choreographed dance number with Sinatra undertone. He loved New York. The city was both mother and friend; protecting him, teaching him lessons and bringing him the best things in his life along with its worst—

He told himself years later that if he hadn't been in such a good mood, watching the streets, enjoying how the darkness had spread its wings over the city's alleys, he wouldn't have seen what he saw. His life would've continued, he would've seen Blair in a few hours, and they would've lived happily ever after. Yes, Chuck Bass lived through lies at times.

The alleys. The alleys were places the UES pretended didn't exist. They didn't look at them, didn't acknowledge them. For a true UES citizen, an alleyway might've as well been in Mars. Apparently Chuck Bass was in Mars that early morning, for he saw something that made his heart jump. He quickly asked his driver to stop.

He opened the door carefully and gripped his cell phone in his hand almost… nervously. He walked with quiet steps in the dark and damp streets. As he approached the scene, a cold sweat broke throughout his skin.

A man was killing another man. With a shaky hand, he pulled out his phone and pointed it at the scene. A tall large man dressed only in black finished strangling a gurgling man and then let the body drop **to** the floor. The killer had a mask over his face and wore a utility belt. He looked like a professional killer and this chilled him even more.

He'd seen enough movies to know he shouldn't be there. He should have let the limo keep driving. He was turning, as quietly as he could, heart in his throat, when he was met by a black wall.

Another person, dressed in black.

"You're going to regret getting out of your limo for the rest of your life," a woman's voice told him. He attempted to barge past her but before he had time to react, she hit him. Hit him so hard his head snapped back and the world went black.

--

Blair huffed as she made her way to Serena, who was waiting for her on the steps of the Met.

"Where is your brother?" Blair demanded; hand on hip glaring down at Serena. Serena for her part looked even more confused than usual.

"I thought he was with you," Serena licked her spoon and dug in for more yogurt.

"He was! Then he left to go home!" Blair snapped, sitting down next to her and pulling out her cell phone.

"So, I'm thinking you guys are official," Serena smirked, eying the glossy Blair.

"Yes… well, that is if I forgive him for leaving me waiting for him," Blair told her, annoyed that her messages had gone unanswered.

"You guys _just_ made up!" Serena laughed.

Blair's anger melted and was replaced by a dreamy, sappy smile.

"S, it was amazing," she admitted. "I think I'm going to love him for the rest of my life."

Serena let out another bark of laugher. "Took you two long enough! I mean, since summer, it's been like 'I hate you, but I love you' looks. Most of us didn't even know how to act around the two of you."

Blair smiled again, touching her lips.

"You have to promise me to go easy on the PDA when I'm around. I'm still adjusting," Serena smirked and patted Blair's shoulder.

"I don't care if the whole world sees us. He's mine and I'm his and it's going to be perfect this time."

Nate came bounding up the steps, face red and faced the two girls.

"Have you guys seen Chuck?" Nate asked, pleasantries aside.

Serena shook her head.

"He should be here any minute," Blair told him, eying her nails.

"When did you see him?" Nate demanded, his eyes sharp.

"Archibald, I don't think –"

"When, Blair?" he yelled.

That's when she noticed he was worried – his hair was messier than usual and was missing his tie.

"This morning – really early," she admitted. "What's wrong?"

Nate was silent but the worry was uncontained. "Bart called me."

Blair nodded, standing up to face him. "And?"

Nate looked at her slowly, unsure at what to say. "They found his limo."

Serena looked at Blair, worriedly.

"It was empty. The driver was gone… and so was Chuck."

Serena glared at Nate and took Blair's hand.

"Nate! It probably broke down and he had to take a cab!" Serena squeezed Blair's hand.

Nate realized that Blair was unnaturally quiet and then cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's probably what it is. He was having problems with his phone too, you know."

"Take me to see Bart," Blair said, her voice oddly soft, almost detached.

"He's probably-" Nate began, running his hand over his hair.

"Take me." She took a deep breath. "He was supposed to come pick me up. He said 'just a few hours.' That's what he said."

"B…" Serena looked to Nate for support.

"Right, let's go then – but when he shows up in a cab both of you are going to feel really stupid."

The cab dropped them off at Bass Enterprises a few minutes later and Bart's secretary had them wait before they let them to see the Big B.

Lily exited the office before the secretary came out, looking shaken, pale and completely un-composed.

That's when this odd feeling reached Blair's stomach. It was a feeling that something was about to change all of their lives forever.

"Mom!" Serena stood to meet her and Lily took her aside.

"What's going on?" Serena asked, and Lily motioned for her daughter to follow her.

When they were out of ear-shot, with only Blair's pale face looking at them, Lily took a breath.

"Serena," her mother's voice made her nerves frazzle. "This is just horrible."

Serena tears in her mother's eyes. "The police – they just came to inform Bart… they've found Chuck's body, Serena. They found him dead."

Serena stared at her mother, letting the words chill her to the bone.

"Oh, honey, this is just horrible. Apparently they attempted to rob the limo and he… he was killed." Serena hugged her mother fiercely, sucking in deep breaths. She couldn't tell Blair. She couldn't tell Nate. She just couldn't.

Lily pulled away and looked at Blair, who was now standing and looking at them in a lost gaze.

"I'll tell them," Lily told Serena and her daughter nodded, holding her hand against her mouth, asking the tears not to come.

She watched as Lily attempted to get Blair to sit down, but the brunette stood stubbornly and demanded to know what was happening.

Serena knew Lily had told her when Blair collapsed into Nate. Her screams haunted her for years.

"How is she doing?" Serena asked Eleanor quietly a few days later as they were all getting ready for the funeral.

Eleanor had bags under her eyes and looked worriedly towards her daughter's room.

"Not well," she stated. "This is just… it's just horrible. She won't let anyone clean her room. Says the sheets smell like him."

Serena's eyes filled with tears once more. She felt like she'd been crying for days. Which she had. Her heart was broken and breaking even more every time Bart shut himself in his office and drank, when Eric would stare blankly at the wall during dinner, when Nate would show up at her house and simply ask to be in Chuck's room, and when Blair wouldn't leave her bed sheets.

"I'll see if I can help her get dressed," Serena said quietly and Eleanor nodded gratefully.

She found Blair in her nightgown, her shrinking body lost under her sheets and clutching a pillow for dear life. Serena shed her coat and attempted to sit down on the bed.

"No!" Blair screeched and glared at her.

Serena backed away from the bed.

"Ok, B. I'm not going to touch the bed." Serena took a seat and looked at her best friend. Her skin was pallid and translucent, her eyes were dark and blotchy, and her lips were pale and dry.

"You need to get ready," Serena said after a while. "The… funeral starts at three."

Blair's face slowly crumbled and she let out a dry sob. Serena tried to hold back her own tears, but they dribbled down her face.

"He… he said, he told me, he said-" Blair sobbed. "Just a few hours. But I've been waiting, S. I've waited a few hours, and he's not coming, is he?"

Serena ignored Blair's look of panic and sat on the bed, pulling her friend to her as Blair screamed into her shoulder.

"He's not coming," Blair repeated over and over.

Between Serena, Dorota and Eleanor it took 2 hours to get Blair dressed. Blair was shaking and so very skinny that it worried Serena.

"Has she eaten?" She asked Dorota as Eleanor helped Blair into her shoes.

The maid gave her a look like she should know better and Serena sighed. Blair insisted on wearing Chuck's necklace even though it clashed, according to Eleanor.

Nate arrived as they were finishing, he was escorting them to the funeral. Seeing Nate for the first time since she had found out Chuck was dead made Blair break down. Nate had to literally carry her to the limo as she sobbed against his jacket.

"Serena." Blair told her quietly during the ceremony. "I think… I think he's watching me."

A cold chill covered her once more at Blair's words.

"I don't know why, but I do."

Nate looked at Blair when he heard her words.

"Blair, I'm sorry for everything." He said his eyes red and his face pale. "I should've never… I mean… I should've told you sooner that he loved you."

A small tear dribbled from the corner of Blair's eye and she leaned in and kissed Nate softly on his lips.

It was a friend kiss. A kiss that told him that none of it mattered anymore.

"I like looking at you, Nate. Because when I do – it's almost like he's next to you. He was always next to you since we were little."

And Nate embraced her, both mourning for the person they loved.

--

When Chuck woke up, he was acutely aware that he had been knocked out and knocked out good. He swore and attempted to stand up. His head felt like he was being shaken at an irrationally fast rate.

So, yes, he was more of a lover than a fighter, but he had gotten in enough fights to know he was on the losing end.

That's when he noticed he was not in his usual surroundings. The room was white, sterile and empty. Just him in nothing but his boxers.

He looked around, alarmed.

Had he been placed in a mental institution? Was he in a hospital?

Shit. Was he dead?

That thought made his blood run cold.

"Hello!" his voice was hoarse.

"Good morning, Mr. Bass," an electronic voice filled the room and Chuck stood up, alarmed.

"Who are you?" Chuck demanded, holding his head. "Why am I here?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions but let me clarify that none of them are to be answered right now."

"Do you even know who I am?" he demanded, looking angrily at the walls.

"Yes," the voice replied. "That fact is most likely the reason you're alive and not dead. Like your driver."

"John?" Chuck asked, alarmed.

"Dead. You will never ask about him again." The voice replied.

Fear caught his heart and he looked for a way out.

"Goodbye for now."

The voice was silent for a few hours, hours which Chuck spent attempting to break down the walls, shouting and screaming. Nothing helped. When his bladder felt like it should explode, he urinated on the wall and sang a Disney song loudly to annoy the voice.

He was half asleep and attempting to ignore the smell of urine that had taken over the room when one of the walls opened to reveal a door and a tall, beautiful black woman walked in with a tray in her hand.

Chuck sat up and eyed the door.

"If you attempt to escape, they will kill you and your girlfriend. I wouldn't suggest it." Her voice was smooth and fragrant. She was Jamaican, he could tell from all of his vacations there.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

A man, large as a wall, walked in behind her and brought with him a small table and two folded chairs. He placed them down, allowing the woman to set the tray for him. The large man left the moment he was done, the wall closing behind him. The woman took a seat and observed Chuck.

Chuck looked down at the tray filled with hospital food and then up at her.

"I don't have a girlfriend," he stated and took a seat calmly across from her.

The woman sighed and she stared at him, with an eerie calm. "Then you don't mind that we kill Blair Waldorf? Very well." She rose and he rose with her, desperation in his face.

"Wait! Ok. I have a girlfriend. Fine. I do. You don't go near her."

"Your time for demands is over. I understand that for a little rich boy like yourself who has had everything he's ever wanted, this will come hard, but it's the first lesson I suggest you learn."

"How much do you want?" Chuck asked.

A cold smile spread on her lips.

"Your money is worthless here," she said.

"Money is never worthless," Chuck snapped.

"Second lesson: if you ever contradict me again, I will kick your balls so hard that you will taste them in the back of your throat."

Chuck gulped as he got a visual.

"I'm listening," he said.

"No interruptions."

"None," he agreed.

She sat back down and calmly crossed her legs.

"Two days ago, you intercepted a mission and witnessed something you shouldn't have. Normally, this would call for immediate termination of the witness. But because of who you are, someone, and I don't know who, intervened on your behalf. You were brought back here to base and have been asleep since. As of right now, all of your family and friends believe you to be dead. In a few hours, they will be attending your funeral."

He felt sick.

"Congratulations, you've made front page news." Her voice was cold as she pulled a newspaper from under her jacket and placed it on top of his cold mashed potatoes.

Chuck starred down at the paper before him and took in his own face printed on page one.

**YOUNG BASS KILLED IN ARMED ROBERY.**

"**We're all still dealing with the shock," stated Mrs. Bass, the new wife of empire builder Bart Bass or Big Bart Bass as he's known in the business world.**

**Charles Bartholomew Bass was 18 years old and a senior at St. Jude's School for Boys. The Young Bass had been recently romantically linked with young heiress Blair Waldorf, daughter of acclaimed clothing designer Eleanor Waldorf. There is no comment from the Waldorf family, and Miss Waldorf has not been seen since the incident.**

He couldn't read anymore and tossed the paper on the floor angrily.

"They can't go on thinking that I'm dead!" he shouted. The thought of Blair simply breaking down because of this lie killed him. He hoped no one left her alone – for even a moment – especially not near a toilet.

The woman gave him a warning glance and he shut up.

"So this is what happens now. You have a choice. A limited choice, but a choice nonetheless."

Chuck glared at her.

"Your life is no longer yours, it belongs to the Sector. You can choose to become part of the sector and attempt build a new life, or you can choose to die. We can easily replace the false cadaver with the real one."

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Please understand that if you choose to live and hold on to that hope that one day you will be able to escape and run far, far away where your billions can save you, I regret to inform you that is not going to happen. Ever."

She stood up, gracefully and stoically.

"Before you make a decision, young Bass, I have something I would like you to see."

He followed her as she took him through a maze. They reached a man behind a desk that wore the same stoic expression. He saw them and pulled out some neatly folded clothes.

"Put these on," she told him and watched him squirm as he dressed himself in hideous black cargos and a black shirt.

She turned, and he followed her down another tunnel. When they reached a door that a woman was guarding with a large gun in her hand, it opened and he saw sunlight. He let out a breath of relief.

The woman looked at him. "My name is Tersa, by the way."

Tersa walked past the she-guard, and he followed her towards what looked like a large black SUV.

"Get in," she stated, and he slid into the open door. She slid in next to him and, before he was able to react, she had a gun out and was shoving it between his ribs. He let out a cry.

"Just so you know that I hold no hesitation in killing you," Tersa informed him and motioned to the man behind the wheel to drive.

The glass was tinted so dark that Chuck couldn't see where they were going. He looked up at Tersa, who had now slid dark sunglasses over her eyes. She watched him without emotion.

When the car finally stopped about two hours later, Chuck was sleepy and wished he had eaten the food Tersa had brought him. His stomach was growling and he was pretty sure he'd never been this hungry in his life.

Tersa took out of her bag a pair of sunglasses, always maintaining the gun at his side, and handed them to him.

"Is it sunny?" He sneered, annoyed and crabby.

Tersa didn't reply and simply waited for him to do as he was told. Chuck Bass hated to be held by the balls. He put the sunglasses on and turned to Tersa, and that's when he saw it. He was able to see out of the SUV. They were in a grassy area… a cemetery. Chuck's insides froze with dread.

Over Tersa's shoulder, he had a pretty good view of a funeral taking place and he felt like vomiting when he saw his father's sunken face and a trembling Lily at his side. He gulped. He scanned the crowd and saw some people from school, everyone dressed in black but still looking very fashionable. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull up and he almost called out to Nate when he saw him exit the car. Behind him came Serena looking as stunning as ever in a black pantsuit. That's when Nate reached and pulled out a trembling Blair, who looked like death had taken over her.

His insides burned and his jaw twitched as he saw Nate nearly carrying her to where the service had just started.

"Blair," he breathed out. She looked so very pale and delicate that he wanted to burst through the car and hold her. Surely she hadn't been eating; she was skin and bones! Her dress fell over her loosely and he closed his eyes because he knew she was suffering.

"It's not fair," he said quietly. "It's not fair to her."

"When I saw my own funeral, they had to break both my legs so I wouldn't run to my children." Tersa said, emotionless and calm.

Chuck looked at her, his eyes wide. "Why are you doing this, then? Look at her! She's not well. She needs me!"

"We all do it," she said and reminded him of who was in charge by pressing the gun closer to his ribs.

"I don't care if you kill me," he said, eyes glued on Blair.

"I think she would," Tersa said.

"She already thinks I'm dead!" Chuck cried.

Tersa said nothing, but continued to watch him through her sunglasses.

Chuck watched as his world crumbled around him. He watched the entire service, saw as Eric buried his face in his hands and Serena held on to him. He saw Nate hold Blair close to him as his eyes darkened at the sight of the coffin before them.

But Chuck was entranced by Blair, who looked like she herself was slowly dying.

When it ended, Blair spoke to Serena and Nate, telling them things quietly and listening as they responded. Then something happened that made Chuck died – truly die inside. Blair took Nate's face in her hands and kissed him. She touched their foreheads together and then he enveloped her in his arms.

And Chuck Bass died then and there.

"Oh cheer up, chum," a voice to his left said. He slowly realized that Tersa was gone and she was replaced by a stunning blonde with chin-length hair and legs that went on for miles. "I'm sure the darling loves you, but how long can you really love a dead person?"

Chuck stared at her – his eyes narrowing.

"My parents named me Paula, but you will call me 27. I am the voice you heard, I'm always the voice."

"Why did you bring me here? What did I do?" Chuck's tone was low and calculating. He was calculating, after all. He had calculated more destruction than he cared to own up to. He could outsmart this bitch like he had the countless before her.

"Let us chat," she said and Chuck desperately wished to see her eyes, but she was also hiding behind sunglasses.

"Go ahead," Chuck motioned for her to begin.

"By now you realized that we have no qualms in killing you or anyone else that gets in our way. You're a smart boy and also realize that for us to be able to fake the death of a billionaire, we must have…. unlimited funds and unlimited cooperation. We know things – things what can bring down entire empires."

She took him in.

"So being the smart boy that you are and knowing what you know and having seen what you have seen, I know you will make the correct choice. We all have. Because a life like this is better than no life at all."

"You've obviously never been in love," Chuck commented, dryly.

A smile formed on her face.

"Ah, yes… poor little Blair. So thin, so lonely, so much in pain. Her love taken from her at such a young age. Left all alone… yet…." She studied Blair and his friends. "My, my, that Nathaniel Archibald is quite a dish. Such a gentleman, such a dream for any 18 year old. I wouldn't worry, with you gone and with Blair in need, it's only natural for him to comfort her. He is, after all, her first love. I'd say that she'd be very well taken care of."

Chuck didn't think, didn't process things all he could see what Blair sobbing into Nate's shoulder and they both would be naked. _Bonding_ over his death.

He lashed out and attempt to grab 27 by the throat, but the woman's leg somehow connected with his face. His neck snapped back and he hit the window and in a loud 'thud'.

Now he realized who had hit him that night in the alley.

"Fucking bit-"

And he was out cold.

He woke a few hours later and found himself in the same room as before. He was in nothing but boxers once more, but this time with a plate of food next to him. He stood slowly, his head feeling like it was exploding, and crawled to the plate of food. He found a cold sandwich and a glass of milk. He hungrily stuffed himself with the sandwich and downed the milk. He hated milked. Always had.

This made him feel a bit better. At least his stomach didn't feel like it was eating away at his spinal cord.

"Hello?" He called out to the room. "27? Tersa?"

"Good evening, Mr. Bass."

"Get me the fuck out of here!" He banged on the wall where the door had appeared.

"The food you just ate was poisoned," the voice stated. "You have exactly 3 minutes and forty eight seconds to live."

His hand felt numb, and he looked down at it.

"What the hell is this?" He asked, eyes wild.

"The question is: what do you do now?" The voice asked. "Simply slip away and go meet your maker or take the antidote that we can offer you."

"What's the catch?" He demanded. Now both his arms were numbing and his heart was racing at an accelerated rate.

"Well the antidote does come with strings."

"Hurry up!" Chuck shouted as his legs gave out under him.

"The antidote is a contract. You take it. We let you live. You belong to us. Until the day you die."

Chuck's throat was beginning to close his breaths were coming in short spurts.

"Done." He said, even though words seemed to be so very hard to come by now.

The voice was silent as it contemplated his answer.

"I'm dead already. I even went to my own funeral and saw the love of my fucking life crumble before me! I have no fucking life, so give me the fucking antidote! It's the least you can do!"

The voice continued to be quiet.

"Please!" He cried. Sweat was pouring out of him and he felt his eyes begin to roll back.

"Done."

He dimly recalled Tersa lifting his head and pressing a vile to his mouth. But then again, that was years ago. Anything could've happened.

_Stay - I could've chosen to stay  
__At least the world wouldn't look so gray  
__Here - Here is an empty room  
__Filled with an empty man  
__Who dreams of her  
__Whether or not I want to_

--

To be continued.

A/N: this will be a 6 chap series. If you want to leave a note to let me know what you think you're welcomed to


	2. The Chameleon

Dead Boy Walking (Chapter 1 of 'The Once & Future Bass') "When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have n

**The Chameleon **(Chapter 2 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_)

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Song 'Sugar Cane' by Missy Higgins & "Leaving her Alone" by Ari Hart.

Special thanks to my BETA, Tati!!

--

"_The world's greatest lie: At a certain point in our lives we lose control of what's happening to us and our lives become controlled by fate." – The Alchemist_

When Nathaniel Archibald opened the door to his house, he never expected to see a worn-out Serena standing before him. The look in her weary eyes told him it had to do with Blair or the lack of **a** real Blair.

Nate simply nodded and let her in, offering her a cup of hot tea. She declined and slumped against his sofa, letting her head fall in her hands.

"Again?" He asked softly and sat across from her.

She nodded, her face still hidden.

Nate sighed and rubbed his temple. They were too young to deal with this.

"When?" He asked and she looked up at him. She was tired of crying.

"Last night. I felt it was strange that I hadn't heard from her, so I decided to show up. Nate… she made herself pass out."

Nate felt his stomach gave out and he clenched his teeth.

"Did you tell Eleanor?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

"She begged me not to," Serena said.

"Ok. We need to do something."

It had been four months since Chuck had died, and Blair was just spiraling down this path that neither of them knew how to fix or how to change. They had taken her to a few doctors and nothing helped.

"This is beyond us, Nate." Serena's voice was so very tired. "In a few weeks we leave for college, and then what are we going to do?"

"I'll be at Yale. I'll look in on her," he said, trying to appease her.

Between Dan, Serena, Eric, Nate and even Jenny had taken turns staying with Blair whenever they could, but Serena was right – it was too much for them to handle. Blair was broken and, at times, he felt it was beyond repair.

They all felt it – like their perfect, fabulous world had been shattered and none of them knew how to fix it. It was like the world was harsher, darker, and filled with sooth.

He missed Chuck more than he would ever admit to anyone, but he could tell the others saw it in his eyes. When there would be a party, he would stand alone, almost to the sidelines and expect to see Chuck show up, women draped on either of his arms and high as a kite. But Chuck never showed to the parties, and Nate would get piss-drunk and wake up with a disapproving Jenny or Serena looking down at him.

_Grieving time_, that's what his therapist had called it.

Fucking pissed is what he preferred. Because it wasn't fair that Chuck, the one with most life, had been taken away so suddenly.

So, yes, he was angry. He was fucking pissed. He drank more, initiated fights that he had no chance of winning because he held on to the dim hope that Chuck would break through the crowd and throw a few punches himself – always helping out, regardless of the consequences. Always faithful.

He became even angrier when it was his turn to deal with Blair. She was a shell of the girl he had loved once. She spoke only when she had to speak, she never smiled and the saddest times were when they would catch her emptying the contents of her stomach over and over. A few times he'd had to carry to her bed wondering if she would ever be Blair again. He would look down at her and ask himself; where was Blair Waldorf? Had floated away or was she buried six-feet deep?

He knew very well that going to Yale was only more excuse for more drinking, more womanizing… it's as if he was trying to bring Chuck back by _becoming _him.

He would have no time to care for Blair. Not the way they'd been doing.

"I'll try to… talk to her." Nate said slowly. Serena took in his very recent black eye and he looked away.

"Nate," she said softly, head tilted. Nate avoided her eyes and clenched his jaw.

"It's _grieving time_, Serena." He spat, angrily. Fists clenching. His knuckles were still angry – still hungry.

"You're fucking pissed, is what I would say," she stated and stood to leave.

"Serena-"

"I need a day off." Her voice was flat. "I'm tired, too. I'm meeting Dan for lunch. I just…" She looked around, lost. "I need to not think about all this for a minute. I need to remember that we're only eighteen."

It was true; Serena had taken the brunt of the hit when it came to Blair. Spending nearly every night with her, making sure she ate and slept. While Nate did show up sporadically, he just couldn't stand to look at Blair. Especially when she would always look just beyond his shoulder to see if a certain dead man came in after him.

But he was alone now. He was alone. He needed a drink.

--

_Baby ballerina's _

_Hiding somewhere in the corner_

_Where the shadow wraps around her_

_And our torches cannot find her_

Nate found Blair sitting on her royal chair. His throat worked as he remembered Chuck also loving that chair. He would lounge on it just to piss her off and see her huff, attempting to dislodge him. Now that Nate thought back at all their arguments he realized Chuck just wanted Blair to touch him. Hate was always better than indifference.

She was now dressed immaculately but so unlike Blair that it made his heart sink a bit. Jenny was sitting across from her, reading out loud. She was reading page 6. Blair's face was blank and didn't even notice him come in. Jenny looked up from her page and threw him a smile.

Jenny Humphrey was still as lovely as ever with some more meat in her bones and curves on her body. She was quickly becoming the most coveted girl in Constance and she still looked at Nate like he would never disappoint her. Of course he couldn't look at her while she still saw him that way.

"Hey," she said softly and then turned to Blair, who was staring blankly at the window.

"Hey," he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets and motioning to Blair.

Jenny shrugged and stood to meet him. What was there to say? She was obviously not well otherwise it wouldn't be Jenny here but Iz. Blair didn't care who now accompanied her.

"Blair, look – Nate's here!" Jenny tried to cheer her up.

Blair slowly turned and took Nate in – for a moment a shadow passed through her face as she did her customary look over his shoulder. When she saw that nothing stood behind his shoulder, she visibly sagged.

"Hi, Nate," her voice was toneless.

"Hey, Blair!" He tried to be chipper. "I came over to see if you wanted to go to dinner."

"Sounds fun!" Jenny, enthusiastically. Blair ignored her.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks for asking." She looked like Blair, but somehow Nate wanted to shake her.

"It's for later." He sat before her.

Blair's eyes were dim and dark. "I'm not hungry, but thanks for asking."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he stated and stood, looking down at her.

"Nate…" she began tiredly, closing her eyes.

"Blair," he snapped. Her head reeled back to look at him, as if no one had spoken louder than a whisper around her for months. This technically was true. "Sitting around in your house and moping is not going to bring Chuck back!"

She looked like he had slapped her. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape.

Next to him he was aware of Jenny shifting, not knowing what to do.

"Starting fights won't either," she said coldly.

For some reason this brought him a small amount of relief. Cold Blair was better than indifferent Blair.

She noticed her voice and then her eyes changed and she let out a sob. He didn't know what to do – he'd seen Blair cry plenty of times in his life. Usually and almost always over him or something he had done. He had hurt her over and over. But the chilling pain in her eyes he had never seen or ever caused. Now here she was – completely destroyed – because of his dead best friend.

That's when Nate realized that Blair loved to _pretend_ that she loved Nate, but she had really fallen _in_ love with Chuck Bass. She had finally fallen in love and it was destroying her.

In the back of his mind and through all of his anger, Nate hoped that one day he would love the way Blair loved Chuck.

He held her in his arms then. Maybe it was because she'd finally snapped but she agreed to go to dinner that night. She looked poised and perfect and was ever the lady she was taught to be.

Perhaps it was because she missed Chuck so much, or maybe it was because he had taken her to Victrola and she had seen the place shut down that she kissed him that night. He didn't mind because in a strange way it was the best he had felt in months. When she called him Chuck, his stomach didn't turn; in a way it brought him comfort and he thought that this was one confession he would never let his therapist know. She fell asleep before they even reached her house. As he stared down at her, he realized that though he would always love Blair Waldorf, he would never be in love with her. He had never been in love with her.

He remembered the way Chuck would stare at Blair through their "months at war" at the beginning of senior year. She would pretend she didn't see Chuck, but she enjoyed it too much; Chuck did also. Chuck loved watching her, hungrily taking her in. But Chuck was gone and so were those looks and Nate decided that if Chuck was up there somewhere watching over them, he would want Nate to look after his girl.

And at that moment Nate decided that he would.

_She will stay there till the morning_

_Crawl behind us as we are yawning_

_And she will leave our game_

_To never be the same_

--

"Is that the best you can do?" The voice next to his ear sneered.

His jaw clenched and he let his instincts take over, like he had been taught. Pulling out his handgun, he pointed it at the general direction and unloaded his entire clip at the unsuspecting dummy.

When he was done, he stared at the dummy and a small smile formed on his face.

"Now _that's_ a killing," Tersa smirked at him.

He felt secretly pleased. Who would've thought that the spoiled little rich boy he had been just a year and a half ago would be now a lean-mean-fighting-machine? He had muscles in places he didn't know a man would have muscles, he had absolutely no emotions left in him, and he smirked when he hit his target. Chuck Bass was indeed dead.

"I'm a quick learner," he stated and reloaded his gun.

"If by quick, you mean seven months of training, then..." Tersa teased him.

Chuck gave her a smile. A smirk was more like it. He never smiled anymore.

"27 wants to talk to you today." Tersa looked at the clock behind him. "In five minutes."

"I like the way you tell me when I have to speak to her," Chuck said, placing his gun on the holster strapped to the side of his thigh. "It's always so very last minute."

"That way you don't have a chance to accidentally injure yourself and end up in medical." She smiled and walked away.

Chuck shook his head and walked out of the shooting compound. He waved to Mike before heading out, and the hulking man simply nodded in his direction.

Chuck knew the place by heart already; Sector was underground and took over a good half-a-mile radius. Inside they trained, studied, slept, ate, and did just about nothing else.

He walked past the techies and smirked at the redhead in blue. She gave him a sly look and turned back to work. She was his Wednesday girl.

"Bass." a lean and tall blond man walked towards him with a black duffle bag over his shoulder. He smirked down at Chuck.

"Jenkins," Chuck greeted him and held out his hand.

"Still around?" Jenkins asked and shook his hand, looking down almost proudly at him. Jenkins was the best the Sector had. He was what Chuck liked to refer to as the resident James Bond. Smooth, tall, handsome, and as charming as he was deadly.

Chuck owed him quite a few bruises and broken bones.

Chuck just nodded at his question, which made Jenkins' grin wider.

"I heard the rumor," Jenkins ventured and eyed a passing brunette in a move so subtle that Chuck had to admire it.

"Rumor?" Chuck inquired though he knew very well what rumor he was talking about.

"About to become a field man?" Jenkins leaned in, eyebrow raised.

"Rumors, Jenkins. Just rumors," Chuck stated, giving nothing away.

Jenkins studied him for a moment. "You remind me of myself, Bass. Not bad."

"I'm still me," Chuck drawled.

"Fair enough." Jenkins chuckled. "So – what's it going to be?"

Chuck cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

"The first thing you do." Jenkins clarified.

Once the agents were promoted to field-people they would get their own apartment and could live a normal life until their next assignment. Chuck hadn't smelled fresh air in over 18 months. Not since his funeral, not since the moment he last saw Blair.

_Blair…_

His stomach turned, but his face gave nothing away.

"I bet I can tell, Bass," Jenkins' smile now grew wider and there was a shadow of malice in it that sent chills down Chuck's back. "We all leave something behind. _Something_ that we would give our lives to see, maybe even just one last time."

Chuck remained impassive, but his insides were quacking.

"For men like you and me, it's always the same. It's all about a girl."

Jenkins chuckled and Chuck realized that his eyes must've blinked – this was the way Jenkins always got to him. He would hit _just_ the right spot.

"Bass." The cold voice behind them ended the conversation.

Jenkins turned and looked at the woman before them. "27," he greeted.

"I'm sure you have some work to do. Perhaps something that doesn't involve your mouth?" 27 asked leaving Jenkins with a cold glance before turning to Chuck.

She didn't need to say anything, just turned and he followed reluctantly.

He followed her well-shaped ass up the stairs and into her glass office. She took a seat and waited for him to do the same.

Chuck hated this woman.

"I am not used to be kept waiting." 27 said, glancing at the paperwork over her desk.

Chuck didn't reply. He had learned a long time ago that, with 27, it was best to pretend English was your second language.

"You've been recommended for field, Bass." She looked over him, taking in his stance and his body. "You think you're ready?"

Chucked looked at her and blinked.

"Fair enough," she replied to his look. "I'm willing to _test_ you out."

Chuck's heart beat just a bit faster at the thought of being outside.

"I will let you piggyback with Jenkins on an assignment." She looked him over to see his reaction and smiled when he had none. She handed him a computer jump drive. "Know it by heart, you leave at 1600 hours."

Chuck took the drive and stood to leave.

"Bass," 27 said behind him. "What happens tonight will determine the type of agent you will eventually become." She stood from behind her desk and walked to him. He instantly noticed her hips. He knew that hip moment. It was the I-want-to-fuck-you hip movement. All the blood rushed out of his face. If there was one woman he didn't want to piss off, it was 27. She could make life hell for him. She placed her hand gently against his chest and it took all the strength in him not to slap it away… and probably drop kick her across the room. Because he could drop-kick now.

"I see great things for you, Bass. Just play your cards right," she finished and turned away from him, walking to her desk. She sat down as if she hadn't practically rubbed herself against him. Chuck swallowed and walked out.

He didn't know which was worse, an evening with Jenkins or 27's hands on him, doing anything other than beating him up.

_Brave - What does it mean to be brave? _

_Does it mean that we're gonna have to behave? _

_Or should we weather the storm again _

_And never again say when _

_Is it our minds that warp reality? _

_Or is it our love that just won't let it be?_

--

Blair Waldorf looked over the two dresses in front of her.

"I'm thinking the gray one." she told Dorota and Serena made a derisive sound behind her. "What?"

"Gray?" Serena asked, petting Blair's baby kitten. It was new and sadly neglected.

Blair shrugged. She liked gray.

"It's the new black," she explained.

"I miss the pink-wearing Blair," Serena stated, giving her an encouraging smile.

"I don't," Blair snapped and Serena knew not to push the subject. Blair still had these tender moments that they all knew to leave alone.

"I want everything to look perfect," Blair explained, inspecting the blue dress.

"You've never been anything but perfect," Serena reminded her, kissing the top of Cat's head.

Blair ignored that comment.

"So you think the blue is better?" she asked, glancing at Serena.

"Absolutely. Nate will love it and it will look stunning in the pictures. Plus, it'll really show off your tan," Serena stood and touched the light fabric.

Blair studied the dress and then finally nodded.

"You're right. Nate will like it much better," Blair admitted. She looked at Dorota. "Pearls, I think."

Dorota walked over to Blair's jewelry chest and pulled out a black box that had been stored in the very bottom. "How about this one, Miss. Blair? You never wear it."

Serena froze when she saw what was in Dorota's hands, she quickly yanked it from the maid's hands and attempted to hide it, but it was too late. Blair had seen it.

"Thank you, Dorota, that will be all," Serena pushed the maid out and turned to her friend.

Blair was becoming increasingly good at hiding everything and this worried Serena above all.

"Pearls are great, you're right," Serena smiled but Blair was staring at the box, her eyes lost. "B?"

Blair shook herself and gave Serena her signature forced smile. "Yes, pearls."

Later when Serena had left and Dorota was busy filling her tub with rose water, Blair walked to her closet and sat down by a corner. She pulled a shoe box which was securely closed. It was filled with photos. Forgotten photos. It also held a folded bright-patterned cloth that she didn't want to look at this moment. When it all became too hard and she couldn't breathe, she would look at the photos and just remember.

They all had one thing in common. They all contained Chuck's face.

She felt her hands tremble as she picked up her favorite one, the one taken the week before he died. They had just gotten into each other's good graces. No more wars, no more making each other jealous, no more snips and dry comments. Just them. Just Chuck and Blair; able to sit next to each other without everyone next to them feeling like the third, fourth & fifth wheel. They were at the Funchess party at _Diablo_. He had dressed in a red suit, and she matched him in her red dress. They looked like a pair of devils, but both of them gave the camera a toothy grin. It reminder her of an innocent time; a time before the sex, the love and the wars.

Sometimes, if she looked at the photo long enough, she swore she saw it move. Like he would smile back at her and perhaps give her a wink. When it got to that point, she would quickly stuff it back in the box and perhaps shower.

"Miss Blair, Mr. Nate called to confirm he's picking you up at seven for dinner party." Dorota called to her, shaking Blair out of her daze.

"Thank you!" She called back and stood to shower. Chuck Bass was best kept in a shoe box at the back of her closet.

--

Jenkins was already dressed in an immaculate tux when Chuck arrived to the debriefing room. Chuck was not actually going to be seen by anyone at all – he was to stay unnoticed and eliminate the target.

"Bass."

"Jenkins."

Tersa entered, dressed in a stunning backless ivory dress that was sure to capture every male attention in the room – which is exactly what they needed her for.

"Tersa," Jenkins looked over her, hungrily.

She ignored him.

"Know your man?" Tersa asked Chuck and he nodded. Chuck's first assignment was simple. Kill Boris Viloslovich during a dinner party while Tersa and Jenkins provided a distraction.

Chuck had diligently studied his case and knew all there was to know about Boris Viloslovich. All he had to do was pull the trigger but, though he knew his weapons and knew his dance, he had never killed a man before. This was his true test of manhood and of much more. He felt like he had swallowed a sea urchin.

"If Princess over there doesn't puke I dare say she'll do fine," Jenkins smirked at Chuck. Chuck ignored him.

"He'll do just fine," Tersa stated and then reached for her own equipment.

"Where's the place?" Chuck asked Tersa.

"A dinner brunch held by the Archibald family in New York."

Chuck's insides froze and his head snapped to look at Tersa, who looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"You're ready for this, little boy?" she asked.

Chuck's jaw twitched.

So this was what it was all about. His first test of true survival was to remain invisible as he watched his own world from his rifle. This would be hell and they knew it. His palms sweated just a bit, but he remained composed.

"What's there to be ready for?" Chuck replied, grabbing his rifle and walking out of debriefing.

--

When they arrived in Manhattan some hours later the city was welcoming the night into its wings and this familiarly began to seep into Chuck's soul. From behind his sunglasses, he watched the people walking, minding their own business, being completely unaware that a once fallen Prince was amongst them once more.

He almost broke and showed emotion when they passed the street Victrola used to be at. It was closed and abandoned. His heart leap at the thought that his once-beloved establishment was another failed business.

The van pulled behind a building in the process of being remodeled and the team got out. Chuck relished the air around him, but a look at Jenkins as he studied him with a smirk made him refocus.

Within the hour, Chuck had been set up at a window that overlooked where the dinner party would take place. He was trying his best ignore the all-too familiar scene and extravagant party atmosphere that had been so much a part of him before. The guests had not arrived yet. The staff was setting up, and he carefully watched them mill around.

He thought he even recognized one or two of the girls.

As the time drew closer and closer, he became more and more nervous – his stomach was not having this, and he seriously wondered if he could go through with it. The only thing he hoped – desperately hoped – was that no one he knew would be there, but the rational part of him knew it was just a wish.

He needed to concentrate; he needed to not think about anything – including Blair – at the moment.

"We're heading out," Tersa told him. Jenkins stood behind her, enjoying the backside of her gown. She placed a delicate hand in her ear. "Test."

Chuck placed his own finger over his transponder and nodded. "Clear."

"Next time we see you, you'll be a real boy," Jenkins smirked and walked out behind Tersa.

Chuck focused all of his attention on the scope and the party unfolding before him and ignoring the paper he had stepped on that clearly stated 'Bass Enterprises'. He was in his father's building.

--

"You look beautiful," Nate told Blair as she sat next to him in the limo.

Blair looked at him and gave him a small smile.

"Serena thought blue might be a good color." Blair admitted and smoothed out an invisible wrinkle from her dress.

"It is, I'm glad you chose it," Nate said distractedly.

Inside, Blair smiled. It was junior year all over again. Both of them were in robotic mode. They were with each other, but neither one of them was with the other. The only difference was that, this time, she was just glad to have someone next to her. He was her good friend. That she just happened to have sex with on Saturdays. As if it was planned out.

She didn't coddle him, didn't call him fifty times a day. Some weeks they even went days without speaking and would flawlessly come together for their events and social activities. Sometimes they would sit and watch a film together and he would hold her, but it felt… like a friend would hold you. There was no passion, no desire – nothing but the need to be close to each other, because otherwise what would you have?

He would always be a gentleman. He would look at her fondly, he would distractedly hold her hand and he would kiss her, but… she knew very well that he wasn't in love with her, just like he very well knew she was not in love with him.

She figured that she could live the rest of her life like this. Just like this. She could. Hadn't her mother done it for years? Only Blair had actually loved and loved passionately, she didn't know if she could say the same about her mother. Like they said; 'this better to have loved and lost and never have loved at all. Whoever said it obviously had never lost.

"Your mom must be so excited," Blair said, attempting dull chatter.

"Yes, and she really appreciates all your help with the caterer," Nate told her and squeezed her hand.

Blair gave him a small smile.

"I don't mind," Blair replied and went back to looking out the window.

"I don't think I'll be able to stay over you place tonight," he said after a while. Blair didn't move. "I have an early appointment."

"That's fine, I'll probably be exhausted by the end of the night," she said, squeezing his hand right back.

As they exited the car, Blair felt a chill go up her spine. As if a ghost was haunting her. She quickly shook off her confusion and followed Nate.

When they arrived, Anne greeted them both with much enthusiasm.

"Blair, the dress is exquisite," Anne complimented.

"Thank you," Blair continued the customary greetings.

Fifteen minutes into the meet and greet, she felt like hiding in the nearest broom closet. Broom closets were completely underrated.

It was the person she saw that made her stomach lurch. Bart was here.

Bart Bass hadn't really done many public appearances in the past year and a half. He mostly worked, kept to himself, and would occasionally be seen on Lily's arm. It was the perfect marriage for Lily; this one was a keeper. Bart was there, and Blair had to take a deep breath before going to greet him.

There was something in the way he greeted her – the way he looked at her that made her _really_ look for a broom closet.

"Blair, dear!" Lily was always cuddling her; wearing a perpetual concerned look on her brows. It was her, after all, that had informed Blair of Chuck's death.

"Lily, how are you?" Blair smiled and embraced her.

Bart stood looking at her, no expression in his face, but still studying her. She shifted nervously.

"Mr. Bass." The name was poison in her mouth and she felt like barfing.

"Miss. Waldorf," he greeted back. "Why don't I get you lovely ladies a drink?"

He quickly excused himself. Lily looked down at Blair with an apologetic look, which Blair smoothed over with a knowing smile.

--

Chuck's hands really began to sweat when the guest began arriving and he started to recognize people. His heart beat just a little faster. Any moment now, he would see someone he really cared about.

It was shortly after that the tell-tale Bass limo pulled up and his father emerged with Lily on his arm. Chuck couldn't tear his gaze from his father. He missed the bastard and there were times when he wished he was no more than 6 years old and could go running into his father's study. Sure, his father never held him and cuddled him, but he was still his father. A larger-than-life man who looked after him, despite the apparent lack of emotion.

He noted that he looked… older, tired, and just plain removed from all that surrounded him. This caused him to swallow and look down. His father had lost his only son and heir.

Chuck watched the Basses enter the building and noticed Tersa and Jenkins enter behind his father as if they belonged there, greeting everyone warmly. He waited impatiently for Boris to arrive but before Boris arrived, a car pulled up and out stepped Nate. Chuck's heart gave a sudden swoop at seeing Nate. His best friend looked grown and responsible. As if he hadn't smoked pot in years. There was a slump to his shoulders and Chuck smiled sadly because Nate had become exactly what his parents had wanted him to be. Nate straightened his jacket and smiled inside the car before pulling with him a stunning Blair.

Chuck's feet felt cold and that chill ran up his body and into his hands until it reached his ears and he felt light-headed.

She was so absolutely beautiful. Chuck had nearly forgotten how close to perfection she was. Her hair was curled around her slender shoulders with small flecks of blonde highlights sprinkled around her dark curls. Her lips were ruby red and she wore a show-stopping blue dress that exposed all of her back. She bent down to pick up her slight train and Nate patiently waited for her like a gentleman. He watched as she slid her hand into his arm and they walked into the building.

For a moment – and he swore it was just a moment – she paused, looked over her shoulder and then shook her head slightly.

Chuck felt sick. He should probably find a bucket. It had been months since he allowed himself to think of something else other than the kiss he witnessed the day of his funeral. This time there was no denying it – Blair had found comfort in the arms of his best friend.

He believed she loved him when she said she did. Blair Waldorf, after all, never said anything she didn't mean. She had never lied to him about her feelings. That week they had spent together before his life ended, she had been as real as anything. Her kisses were real, her love was real – she was so very real.

He had witnessed it himself: she looked broken at his funeral. She looked lost. She still looked lost, as if the Blair sparkle had been completely sucked out.

He knew this feeling all too well. The Chuck sparkle was long gone, too.

It didn't take long for the Boris Viloslovich party to arrive. Viloslovich was new money from overseas. He was, however, so in over his head that he began selling weapons to Arab terrorists. The US government was just not having it. That's where Chuck came in.

He took a deep breath and mentally prepped himself. He had to get this over with and get out of here before he went looking for Blair, like a fool, and got them both killed.

He watched carefully, and Boris didn't disappoint. He arrived with an army of men who surrounded the building. He cracked his neck and followed the man with his eyes. Boris entered and was greeted everyone like the very socialite he wasn't; he was a charismatic and charming man. The women were naturally attracted to him, and the men desperately wanted to be let in on the deal. Chuck's jaw clenched, his eyes waiting for Tersa's signal. The dinner began and he was getting impatient. He was never one for patience – it had always been that way.

Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long. Before the salad was taken away, Tersa stood and swiftly slapped Jenkins and began shouting about an affair.

The UESers loved scandal nearly as much as an investment tip, so their attention was entirely directed towards the shouting couple.

There was his window of opportunity. With one eye closed, he aimed at Boris' head and then-

Blair Waldorf decided that moment to introduce herself and perhaps calm Anne's special guest.

"Fucking shit!" He hissed.

The last thing he wanted was to kill Boris with Blair in front of him. He looked to Tersa and Jenkins – security was quickly coming for them. He looked to Blair again, then to his partners.

Sweat was dribbling down his back, sticking to his black sweater.

_Shit, shit, shit_

And then he did it. He pulled the trigger.

It was Blair who screamed as the man collapsed on top of her.

Chuck's body felt cold but he knew what he had to do. He quickly picked his gun and when he looked out the window to the scene, his body froze. Blair Waldorf, blood on her face, was staring right at him.

Right into his soul.

He stood frozen before Blair was grabbed by Nate and pulled to the floor. Chuck shook himself and bounded down the stairs.

"Late much?" The piece in his ear hissed and he knew Tersa had limited time.

"It's done, isn't it?" he snapped.

He had just killed a man. He had just killed a man. He had killed a man right in front of Blair's face. The dead man had fallen on top of Blair. Blair had seen him.

Blair Waldorf knew he was alive.

It could be worse.

--

To be Continued


	3. The Prodigal Son

**The Prodigal Son** (Chapter 3 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_)

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Lyrics "Wish You Were" by Kate Voegele.

--

"_Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity." – The Alchemist_

Blair Waldorf, heart in her throat, bounded down the stairs, forgetting the elevator and running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. Her heart, at least, and what was life without a heart?

She burst through the front door, stunning the bellman and startling several pedestrians especially with fresh blood on her face and dress.

"Chuck!" she shouted. Her lungs burned, she was out of breath, but she had never felt so alive, so happy, so very confused.

"Chuck!" she ran towards the building, making taxis stop and screech their wheels; their drivers shouting at her in Ukrainian.

Behind her, Nate ran after her, eyes wide as he watched his girlfriend run after a ghost.

"Blair!"

"I saw him, Nate, I saw him!" She was rambling now, looking for a way into the closed building before her. She pounded the door, her small fists doing nothing to gain her entrance.

Nate looked at her as if she had lost her head, shaking his head in disbelief. "Blair!"

"He looked right at me, and he was Chuck, I mean he looked a bit different – larger somehow, but it was Chuck. Same look, same eyes, same hair-" she was choking back a sob, desperately pulling on the locked door.

Nate grabbed her from behind and turned her to face him. Her face was flushed and there was an eminent smile on her face despite the blood now drying on her forehead.

"Blair!" He shook her.

"I saw him!" She shouted, attempting to pull herself free from his arms but he didn't let go.

"He's dead!" Nate shouted, shaking her. People all around them stopped walking just to watch the young couple argue.

"He's not!" Blair shouted right back at him but, upon seeing Nate's shocked face, her bravado crumbled. "I saw him," she whispered.

"Blair…" Nate touched her face; she was breaking his heart. "Baby, Chuck's dead. We buried him. He's dead. He's never coming back. Ever. Regardless of how much we want him to."

Blair studied him and it was as if realization hit her. She was crazy, she was completely crazy. She was seeing her ex-boyfriend in empty buildings, in shadow, in mirrors… what was wrong with her? Why did she feel so empty? So wrong? Like a piece of her soul was missing and she couldn't function without it?

Nate reached out and cleaned the blood on her forehead with the sleeve of his blazer.

"I don't want him to be gone," she whispered, eyes wide and wet.

Nate held her against his chest and she gripped him as if her dear life depended on it.

"Do you hate me?" She whispered.

"No." he said after a minute, stroking her hair.

"How can you not? I'm in love with your dead best friend." Her voice was a mere whisper.

He didn't answer, just held her closer and led her back to the house were the chaos was greater than it was outside in the streets.

_Gone away are the golden days_

_Just a page in my diary_

_So here I am, a utopian citizen_

_Still convinced there's no such thing as idealism_

--

Chuck stood frozen behind the brick wall, blending himself with the shadows, just like he was taught.

The last thing he heard from their conversation was Nate's voice telling Blair that he was gone. Regardless of what they wanted. His heart was at his throat and his hands were stained blood red; the life of a man tinted his soul.

Chuck waited, pressed against the wall, until all of Boris' men searched the area. When he began to hear the sirens, he started climbing up the building. He would've waited to catch a glimpse of Blair as they exited the building, but he realized that he needed to get as far from Blair Waldorf, UES, and everything he knew and knew him, as soon as possible.

While 27 was congratulating him on a job well done, he asked only one thing: to be as far from New York as possible.

After 27 stared him down and he refused to look away, she smiled and approved it.

As he showered that night tears blended with the water so it didn't really count for crying because neither Chuck Bass nor agent 98 cried.

--

_Memories they're following me like a shadow now_

_And I'm dreaming _

_And I've already suffered the fever of disbelief_

By the time Nate walked out of Blair's room and stood to face Serena's worried look, he was emotionally drained.

"I thought she was doing better," Serena whispered, wringing her hands on her lap.

"Blair is an excellent actress," Nate snapped and walked past Serena towards the liquor cabinet in his place.

Serena rubbed her temples and followed him to the small bar.

"She was just in shock – a man did just get killed in front of her," Serena attempted to explain.

Nate fixed her with a look and then took a swig of whiskey. It burned his throat and he relished it, grimacing. Serena reached and let him pour her a drink; she gulped it down to calm herself, just to calm herself.

"You didn't see her," he explained, pouring himself more drink.

"I don't want to know," Serena stated and was quiet for a moment. She took another drink. "Tell me."

"She was shouting. Shouting: 'I saw him, Nate! He looks different, but it's Chuck, he's alive!' and more nonsense." Nate gestured with his hands.

Serena let out a breath. "Oh, God." Another drink.

"This is _not_ normal," Nate sat next to Serena. "It isn't healthy."

"Nate-" Serena began but decided to be quiet.

"I love her, I do. I just… I don't know if I can do this much longer," He finally whispered.

--

_4 years later_

New York, to him, was where life started and where it ended. It was both paradise and hell all mixed into one. He both loved it and hated it. He desired it and was also repulsed by it.

Too many memories that he'd kept hidden behind a mask would stir and remind him that he was once a normal, happy boy. He partied, danced, drank and lived helplessly in love with his best friend's girlfriend. For years. So because he couldn't have her he had everyone else.

Shit, he _still_ loved his best friend's girlfriend. He would party when he would kill. He would drink when he had to think about the killing. And there was _still_ just one woman who could break him like no other.

Blair Waldorf.

He looked down at the newspaper on his lap as the copter circled around Manhattan.

_Socialites and childhood sweethearts Nathaniel Archibald and Blair Waldorf announce their engagement during this year's White Party. _

There on page 6 was a picture of a healthier-looking Blair in the arms of her ever-white-knight; Nathaniel Archibald.

If there wasn't so much shit going on, he would be pissed. He would be drunk. Possibly both.

"Sir, we'll be landing in five minutes." The pilot told him and Chuck nodded.

Five fucking minutes and it was back to heaven and hell on Earth.

The moment the copter landed, none other than Jenkins walked out of the waiting SUV and went to greet him.

"Look who we have here. Welcome back," he told Chuck, who stared at him blankly through his signature black sunglasses.

"Come back home a big hero? I heard about Hong Kong and Paris." Jenkins smiled at him.

"Did you?" Chuck slurred and threw his bag to a junior agent waiting next to Jenkins. "As much as I enjoy the pleasantries, Jenkins, and the endless talk about myself, I have an appointment with 27. You know how she gets when she's…. hot and bothered."

"Looks like Europe gave you a sense of humor," Jenkins smirked at him.

Chuck glared at him and jumped into the car, waiting impatiently for him.

"Fine, you're always so ready to cut straight to business," Jenkins joined him in the car.

"When did it happen?" Chuck asked Jenkins as he looked sideways out the window. They were now driving through New York's streets and the all-too familiar feeling seeped into Chuck's insides.

"We found her early this morning," Jenkins handed him a portable handheld PC that briefed Chuck on the situation.

Chuck studied it, his jaw clenching and un-clenching.

"Anyone we know?" He finally asked as he handed the handheld back to Jenkins.

"27 thinks this is related to the Boris Viloslovich case we had a few years ago. Apparently they've been tracking us this whole time and the only one they could identify was Tersa."

Remembering that night still made Chuck sick. He hated to think back and remember Blair screaming out his name as if her sanity depended on it. It had taken all of his physical and emotional strength not to grab her and take her far away.

"You remember the Boris case, right?"

Next to him Jenkins smirked at him. He _knew_ Chuck remembered it.

"Vaguely," was Chuck's response.

Jenkins smirked.

"I think I did see _her_ that night," Jenkins looked pleased with himself. Chuck ignored him. "Blue dress. Nice ass-"

Chuck had grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the glass, his face pressed dangerously close to Jenkins.

Jenkins sputtered, "Calm down-"

"Shut up." And even Chuck surprised himself on how cold his voice sounded. "You hear?"

Jenkins slowly nodded. Chuck let him go, turning from him and into the street.

"Right…" Jenkins said slowly, massaging his neck. "Not bad."

"You speak of her again, you think about her, you go near her," Chuck looked him straight in the eye. "And I will kill you."

Something dark went through Jenkins' eyes but he dropped the subject. No more joking and having a laugh. Jenkins had crossed the line; he had enjoyed it and Chuck noticed.

When they made it to Sector's headquarters 27 was dressed all in red and waiting for them. She was still as stunningly dangerous as ever. The one person Chuck still didn't dare challenge.

"Welcome home, Bass," she stated and walked away, fully expecting him to follow. Which he did. After a minute. He had forgotten how much she liked being in control.

27's office was relatively the same since the last time she had swung her hips for him. Chuck was no longer that young recruit with anger-management issues. He'd seen enough in life to straighten him out. Her hips had no effect on him whatsoever. Not that they did to begin with.

She sat down and looked him up and down.

"You've grown up nicely, Bass," she stated the obvious, never one to have a problem with sexual harassment.

"Tersa." He began, ignoring her comment. "When did it happen?"

"Yes. Dear Tersa. So sad," 27 smoothed out her skirt. "It is lovely of you to come back."

Chuck stared her down.

"Bass, you've become quite a sensation yourself these past few years. Hong Kong, Paris – even Sydney was quite commendable." 27 looked at her nails, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Chuck knew better; she was a poisonous spider.

"I didn't know we were here for an evaluation, 27." He drawled out and crossed his legs, comfortably.

27 looked up and smiled at him. Killer smile.

"I will be in the city for only a few days, then I'm heading back to Barcelona." Chuck informed her, still calm. "I have some business in the city and I would like to see the Tersa file before I leave. That is – if you have no objections, I'd hate to infringe in your territory."

"You forget your place," she reminded him, stoically.

"You forget I no longer answer to you," he said calmly, eyes never leaving hers.

"Don't try me, Bass. I can make you disappear or even worse." 27's voice was placid and almost friendly, but Chuck knew better. He hadn't made it all these years without being able to read voices and the real intent behind them.

Chuck smiled at her and stood up. "If you wanted me gone or destroyed, 27, you would've done so along time ago. I'll be waiting for the file to be downloaded to my account."

Then he walked out.

--

_I'm still in love with who I wish you were_

_And I wish you were here_

"Dorota!"

The maid huffed down the stairs muttering under her breath. She was too old for this.

"Dorota!"

She made it to the last step.

"Doro-" Blair sighed. "There you are!"

"Yes, Ms. Blair," Dorota stared at the grown-up Blair. Her hair was shorter than it had been in high school; it was still chocolate brown and sporting soft curls to frame her face.

Blair was glaring at the flowers on the center table.

"Carnations?" Blair's perfectly plucked eyebrow was raised.

"Mr. Nate." Dorota explained and Blair grimaced.

"Take them away," Blair said in a hushed tone.

Dorota nodded and promptly picked up the vase taking the red flowers far from Blair's sight.

Blair shook head and pulled out her phone.

_ty 4 the flowers! Luv them. xo B._

He replied.

_Pick u up 7:30?_

She sighed. She was really hoping to stay in and begin preparing for her soirée.

_Sure. See u. xo.B._

Nate was everything that she had expected from him when she was growing up, but the older she became, the more she felt like something was missing. Perhaps if they had never broken up and she had never…

Well, there are many things that could be different.

When Nate stopped at 7:25pm to pick her up, she made sure her hair was absolutely perfect and not one scuff was found on her favorite Manolo Blahniks. She looked radiant in a yellow strapless cocktail Valentino. All of this was staged, of course, New York was a buzz with the news of the recent engagement and paparazzi were everywhere.

It didn't help that an Oscar-winning actress had worn her mother's gown – on the night of her Oscar win. Suddenly everyone from Katie Holmes to Lil'Kim wanted a Waldorf original. Blair was now even featured in Celebrity Kids Gossip Sites and Nate had been caught on TMZ pushing a camera crew out of her face. Really!

She saw even less of her mother now than she did in high school. It worked out well: Blair was now in charge of the Marketing team for Eleanor Waldorf and next year would move to take over the Public Relations department. Her mother and she had strangely grown closer. If by closer, you mean more emails and text messages, of course (half were work-related but she counted those).

"You look stunning." Nate kissed her cheek, like he always did, and gave her a nod of approval.

"I figured if you're taking me to _Imogene_, I might as well look the part," she smiled at him as he helped her into the limo. And just then, just before she entered, she felt a shiver go up her spine. She hadn't felt that shiver since… well; it was a long time ago. Like someone was watching her. When Nate scooted over next to her she clung to him a little tighter than usual and attempted to ignore how unnaturally stiff he was.

--

Chuck watched the two people he actually cared about enter the limo, and he stewed there for a bit. He already knew where they were going and all he had to do was follow but he had to pause and ask himself if this was really what he wanted to do.

Is this what he really wanted out of his 'life'? To come back every so often and just stare at them from far away as envy, jealousy and regret continued to build in his stomach? Watch them marry, what them have little kids, watch them be a family?

What had life made him? He used to be so very carefree… where was that Chuck? Had Sector killed it? Had he killed him himself in a desperate hope not to go running back to Blair and have her die in his arms?

That thought, which was a thought that sometimes haunted his mind, made him shiver. He could never go back to her, not if he really loved her. He'd rather she be out there alive and loving someone else than dead because he just couldn't let her go.

He decided that he should follow them, and stay just far enough away that he wouldn't have to smell her intoxicating perfume. The perfume could take over his resolve and bring it all crumbling down.

When he arrived at _Imogene_, they had already been seated at the table facing the window.

_Typical_, he thought to himself (yes, he was bitter, dammit).

They were showing off their status as people glanced at them and whispered behind hidden smiles, some even taking pictures of them with their phones. They were the golden couple of the UES: childhood sweethearts (with the exception of that incident with the best friend that got killed), always together, and in the near future producing perfect babies.

It was then that Chuck noticed something very interesting. Maybe it had always been there and now that he was accustomed to watching people, he could see what he hadn't been able to see before. Both Blair and Nate were completely bored with each other.

Completely.

Nate glanced past her head and Blair kept her eyes on her food. Sure, they would make small talk and chat amicably and there was obvious fondness for each other but they were as bored as an old married couple who hadn't had sex since 1975.

He didn't know why but this sudden realization made him get out of his SUV and slink into the shadow of the alley behind the restaurant.

--

Blair was bored, he could tell. This wasn't the first time and the pit in his stomach reminded him that it wouldn't be the last.

Sure, she was stronger than she had been all those years ago, but he still couldn't bear to leave her. Even though their relationship had gone from having robotic sex once a week to (at times) weeks passing and not even a kiss. The facade was slowly deteriorating him, and he was sure it was evident in his face.

The need to get out of here and to his place of solace was making him anxious, and he hoped with all his might that the evening would end shortly.

He got his relief when Blair placed her napkin on the table and smiled at him.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to the ladies," she told him and gracefully stood, ever the lady.

He let out a sigh of relief as she walked away. This was getting harder and harder.

--

_I was true as the sky is blue_

_I couldn't soon say the same for you_

_So now I find denial in my eyes_

_I'm mesmerized by the picture that's in my mind_

Blair walked to the restroom and stopped short when that chill once more went through her spine. It was so frightening that she looked around, wild-eyed; to see if anyone was behind her. Her heart began to beat faster and all sorts of thoughts went through her head.

Years ago, when this first occurred, she and Serena (just to appease her) read about ghosts and spirits. If the dead had left the earth before their time and they had unfinished business, they would haunt those that they loved in an attempt to send them a message.

She had been silly then; she had hired psychics, ghost hunters and all types of people. She even bought an Ouija board but no matter how hard she tried, the chill never came again. She didn't know what she had been hoping for. Chuck's voice from the grave? His face on a mirror?

It was all silly. One of the physics had even taken advantage of her and told her Chuck's presence followed her and he wanted to tell her things. Nate hadn't taken it too well and had exposed the woman for what she was before Chuck's face appeared in any mirrors.

Yet… here it was again. The _chill_ that had first started her fascination with the dead. The fascination of just seeing him again, if only for a moment.

Her brain told her to run because it was all too much, yet her head told her to be calm, make it to the bathroom with some decency.

She entered the restroom and was relieved to find it empty. The towels were all in place, the entire place sparkled. A true UES restroom of a five-star restaurant. The emptiness ate at her, and she wondered if she should go back to Nate and ask him to spend the night. Just so she could feel arms around her even if when she closed them she desperately wished they belonged to someone else… someone she had buried a long time ago.

She closed herself behind a stall and pressed her forehead against the door, letting the cool metal share its calming presence with her. She breathed in and out and willed herself not to get sick like she had always done in the days of her youth. Her calmness was startled when she felt the door open and close.

She should get out of here; this was ridiculous.

When she exited the stall she noticed… that no one else was in the restroom.

She gulped and bent down with as much dignity as she could muster to look under the stalls.

One by one she checked. They were empty. All empty. It was only her and that chill that convinced her that she was no alone, not truly alone.

--

After five years of becoming invisible, Chuck was now a master of it. Despite the fact that his heart was beating faster than it ever did on all those previous missions (not that spying on Blair was a mission, he was just curious), he kept his calm and his cool.

He had seen her enter the bathroom and it was strange… but it was almost as if she could sense him. He'd tracked down assassins and they had never felt him, yet Blair somehow did. The fact that she was sensing him made him curious – like a moth to the flame was always his case with Blair. She being the flame, of course.

He ensured himself that no one saw him enter the restroom and followed her in, swiftly standing on one of the toilets, closing the stall behind him. It didn't take long for her to exit her stall and start worrying. He could sense it once more – she felt a presence and he didn't know why exactly, but this made him smile.

He pulled down his ski-mask over his head in case she barged into his stall, he could always play the part of masked robber if he wanted. He remained motionless, waiting for her to leave, yet a part of him wanted them to stay forever like this; her just a door away. He waited and when she didn't leave, his heart and mind began to question exactly how much she could sense.

That's when he felt her go to the entrance and turn the lock. She locked them in.

The pit in his stomach grew larger. What was she doing?

"Oh, God. This is crazy," he distinctively heard her mutter.

His ears perked up.

"Ok. Here it goes." She said to the 'empty' bathroom. "Look, I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I have to say it before I spend another four years and thousands of dollars wondering if there was something more…."

He heard her take a breath.

"I don't know if it's you, Chuck…"

His body froze.

"… I don't know if there's something you need to tell me. I just… I sometimes _feel_ something, and I can't explain it. So if you're just hanging around to make sure I'm ok, then let me tell you I am. I'm as ok as I can be without you."

His stomach sent warning waves to his heart and he had to close his eyes.

"Life is good, life is ok. I just… I just wish you were still here, you know? But we can't turn back time and I'm only twenty-three. My whole life is ahead of me."

She was quiet for a minute then he heard her hold back a sob and he continued a mantra of not going out there and holding her in his arms.

"I don't want you to worry, ok. I know you loved me and you know I loved you. I will always love you. No matter what … No matter whom I marry or who I spend the rest of my life with. I will never stop."

Something must be wrong with his eyes because he felt them moisten.

"But you need to let me go. I want you to be at peace. I really want this… and, of course, if it's not you now I'm talking to a dead person, then I'm technically insane. But if it's you and you just need to hear me say it, then there it is. I want you to be at peace."

He heard her grab some tissues and wipe her eyes.

His jaw twitched.

"Goodbye, Chuck. One day… one day, we will see each other, and then we'll have forever. No one will be able to take away our forever. Not this time."

With that she opened the lock and walked out.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ was the only thing that went through his mind.

_Sometimes I can't explain_

_And I'm so sorry that I can't_

_I'll try to concentrate_

_On your true identity_

--

When he saw her walking towards him, he knew she wanted to go. She wanted to go home and just be alone.

"Nate…"

"You want me to take you home?" He asked, standing to greet her.

Her eyes were wide and possibly pink, and she looked eternally grateful.

"Yes, thank you," she whispered.

He quickly settled the bill and led her outside, placing his hand gently on her lower back and making sure she was comfortable before he slid in next to her.

She looked spaced, lost and alone. She was quiet for most of the ride before she looked up, as if seeing him for the first time all night.

"Nate…" She licked her lips. "You're wonderful, you know."

Guilt ran through his body and he looked down, unable to meet her eyes. His best friend had been better. He may have no been the 'perfect boyfriend,' but he was honest. He was always honest and when he found a cause to be loyal to, he was loyal to the end… 'till the end.

He gulped and looked back up at her.

"Blair…" he began, but she smiled at him, reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"I know," she said and got out when she realized they were at her house. "Call me later."

And she was out, leaving only her perfume in her wake.

Nathaniel sat for a minute in the limo, and then thumped his head a few times against the window. His life was an awful mess.

He wanted to punch something, to hit something – to possibly start a fight. He hadn't had this strong desire of hurting something in years. In years since Chuck died.

"Fuck, man," he hissed quietly at his dead best friend. "You just had to fuck everything up."

Then he instructed the driver where he wanted to go and kept his eyes out the window as they drove down the now-familiar route.

When the car door was opened he gingerly stepped outside and told his driver that he wouldn't need him for the rest of the night. The man nodded, accustomed to this, and left. He took a deep breath before he felt… something cold run up and down his spine. He quickly turned and looked down the dark street.

It was empty, quiet, and only a few empty cars parked on the side.

He shook it off and briskly jogged up the stairs and into the building. He knew the layout well and was able to get to the door before he continued to spook himself.

He pulled out his keys and opened the door, taking a deep breath as if he'd been deprived of air for a while.

He took off his shoes and jacket and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a beer to calm his nerves.

Familiar arms went around his waist, and he felt a face pressed against his shoulder.

"Hey! You're here early."

He smiled his first real smile of the night and turned around.

He looked down at her face; smooth and trusting. He loved that face.

"Baby." He smiled and took her lips in his. "I missed you."

She melted into him, pulling his head down lower to be able to be fully enveloped.

He pulled back and tucked a blonde strand behind her ear.

"Studying?" he asked, she smiled and nodded.

"How was Blair?" she asked, almost timidly.

"The same." A shadow must've crossed his face, because she noticed and brought their foreheads together, staring at him.

"Nate-"

"It's not fair to you." He whispered and pulled her closer.

"I think we'll be ok. At least you're home now."

He nodded and kissed her head, inhaling her scent.

--

Chuck couldn't believe his brown eyes. His best friend, who was currently _engaged_ to Blair was actually … dare he say it? In love with Little Jenny Humphrey? Of course, she wasn't little anymore. She'd grown up to be quite a beauty. Her hair had gotten darker, almost golden, as opposed to the light blonde he had last seen her with. Her body had grown with her, fuller hips, breasts and ass. Her eyes still held that wide-eyed fascination with life and he could see how Nate would be indescribably attracted to it.

But it was more than attraction. As Chuck spied on them from across the street he saw Nate… _lived_ in this apartment with Jenny. They had an easy camaraderie between them. They shared a small bathroom and while wearing their underwear they brushed their teeth and talked and joked about the day. Nate was anything but stiff and boring. He reminded Chuck of a pre-Serena Nate, who would laugh and joke and would be comfortable around people.

His vision was cut short when Jenny drew the curtains and cut his view.

Chucked collected his equipment and walked to his vehicle. When he settled in, his thoughts going a mile an hour, his phone rang.

He looked at the ID and had a dull idea of who it was.

"27."

"Wrong choice, Bass."

The line went dead and the pit that had slowly been digging a hole in Chuck's stomach became a rock.

There was only one way 27 could really hurt him. Only one person that would truly destroy Chuck. And she lived in the other side of town.

--

To be continued

A/N - I hope you're all enjoying it!


	4. The Domino Effect

Dead Boy Walking (Chapter 1 of 'The Once & Future Bass') "When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have n

**The Domino Effect** (Chapter 4 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_)

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Lyrics "Poesía de Amor" by Café Quijano. Translation at bottom of page.

--

_"If good things are coming, they will be a pleasant surprise," said the seer. "If bad things are, and you know in advance, you will suffer greatly before they even occur." – The Alchemist_

Five years ago. Five years ago, he would have been sweating, he would have been panting, he would have been in full panic mode—but not now. Not five years later. He had controlled his mind; he was in the 'zone,' or whatever you'd like to call it. But he was there. Because… because if he veered from the 'zone,' he would lose it. Just fucking lose it.

He was speeding down the busy streets of Manhattan faster than anyone should and was dimly expecting the sirens to be right behind his ass, but at this point sirens were not part of the zone. Only Blair and Blair's place were.

--

She breathed a loud sigh when she finally closed the door behind her. She answered a selective amount of Dorota's questions and managed to make it to be her bedroom and shut the door, sinking against the wood once she was done.

She was a big girl now. She knew Dorota cared for her, and she cared for the maid—but, like any other big girl, she could only take so many questions. She needed a bath. A long, HOT bath. One that would turn her to jelly.

She unzipped her yellow dress and carefully placed it over her chaise, leaving it for Dorota to pick up later. She cracked her neck slowly and stared at herself in her full-length mirror. She was so pale. Perhaps this was the year when she'd finally take that vacation.

She sighed and glanced at her closet. The box. The box was there, waiting for her. She loved that box. Reluctantly, she shuffled her feet to it and crouched down, pulling the box out. Yes, there were pictures but there were also other things. In the corner, a cloth was neatly folded—folded with love and devotion. She gingerly touched it and decided to pull it out. It had been a while since she'd pulled it out. At least a year.

A small smile formed on her face.

"_It was one time. It was chilly."_

He had loved his scarf. She smiled sadly. Poor scarf. It was never the same without its owner. She took the box and the scarf and placed it over her bed. Airing out the scarf was a good thing. It should be aired out. It looked wobbly. Like it didn't like to be kept in a box and wanted to be out and free, enjoying New York. Maybe she would wear it one day. Around her hair, maybe as a belt. No… she didn't think Nate would appreciate her ex-boyfriend's scarf around her waist. Much less her neck, as if his memories were still choking her.

She needed to let this Chuck thing go – it was disturbing her tonight more than other nights. Speaking to the dead in empty bathroom stalls… She was set for the crazy house. She rolled her shoulders and decided she should bathe before she went down memory lane found through photos.

Dropping her slip on the floor, she continued naked to the tub, satisfied that it was full and hot. She loved Dorota.

She pinned her long hair on top of her head and grabbed her I-POD 14XP. It held 250,000 songs, but there were a selective few that she loved above all others.

She didn't realize how long she had been soaking until she thought she saw a shadow move in her room. She pulled out her ear plugs and looked into her room from the tub.

"Dorota?"

No response. She shrugged. She was probably picking up the dress and her slip. She hated seeing things on the floor.

She had been soaking long enough. Standing up slowly, she reached for her silk robe and slipped into it, disliking the way the texture clung to her skin. She should've air-dried a bit first. She let her hair down and gingerly slipped into her satin shoes, relishing the warmth they gave her toes.

"Dorota, I accidentally stained-"

She looked around her room. No Dorota. She cocked her head to the side and then shook her head. She was completely losing it. First the restaurant and now 'shadows' in her room.

"Jeez," she muttered under her breath.

She opened the door to her room and looked over the banister.

"Dorota!"

No answer from the maid.

"Dorota!"

Nothing.

What _was_ going on with Dorota? She grumbled and turned to go to her room when she felt the world go out from under her feet.

There, in front of her, was a man. A man all dressed in black looking at her intensely. Long blond hair was tied to the nape of his neck and he wore a cynical smile on his lips.

"You smell like lilacs," he said. His voice was calm, collected, and it chilled Blair to the bone. Her heart hammered in her chest and she involuntarily backed away.

"Who are you?" She managed to squeak. "What are you doing here?"

His smile simply widened and it made her want to faint and let it all be over.

"Four years ago, you wore a stunning blue dress. It showed off the curve of your back," he whispered, and she felt all the hairs on her arm raise to attention.

"You also smelled like lilacs then." His voice was slithery, and she was sure she had lost her ability to speak. This was it. She was going to die raped by this low-life while wearing satin slippers. How _Lifetime_!

"How much money do you want?" She whispered, her back was now pressed up against the wall. He was coming dangerously close to her.

"Money?" He chuckled, and she felt sweat running down her neck. She had to think. Think fast. Blair Waldorf, that's who she was.

And suddenly, the backbone that she had seriously been lacking for the past few years came to her in a lightening bolt.

She was Blair Waldorf!

Chuck would be appalled that she had spent the last five years of her life moping around, not matching her panties to her bra!

"I demand that you leave my house at this instance! I will call the police and have you arrested for trespassing and breaking and entry!" Her voice rose.

Apparently he enjoyed this.

"No wonder he can't forget you," the man hissed, looking her body up and down. She realized very quickly that he must've seen her bathing.

_Oh, fucking shit._

"Who?" She demanded, now furiously upset. He had seen her naked! The nerve!

He chuckled, darkly, reaching out to touch a curl. She slapped his hand away.

"Too bad you'll never know, _princess_."

And there was something in the way he said 'princess' that she knew there was a finality to it. He was done playing with his food. Without thinking of the consequences, she bolted and began running down the stairs. He stood watching her for a moment, a smile that told her he liked the chase, before he went after her.

Her heart was beating but all she could think was: kitchen. Knives.

Kitchen. Knives. Stab his eyes out. Possibly cut off his penis.

But she never made it to the kitchen; her grabbed her from behind and bashed her against the wall.

She felt the wind knocked out of her as she gazed dizzily at the floor. The marble floor felt cold against her body and she struggled to get up despite the large bruise she felt forming on the side of her face.

Before she could even contemplate getting up, her hair was grabbed and she was yanked up and flushed against his chest.

"So pretty, Blair. So pretty." He touched her face and she scrunched away.

"Don't touch me!" She cried.

"No use in screaming, baby. The maid is out for a while," he hissed against her ear and licked he outer rim causing her to buckle against him.

"Dorota!" She yelled. "If you touched her, I'll–"

"How sweet." He smiled into her cheek, smelling her neck. "Yes… You smell incredibly sweet."

She managed to slip out of her shoes as he enjoyed smelling her neck and, taking a deep breath, she elbowed him as hard as she possibly could. She regretted not taking those Tae-Bo lessons with Serena last year. But it was enough to release her long enough for her to make a mad dash back to her room. If she could get to her room, she could get to the phone… and possibly barricade herself there until the police arrived. Her door was made of English oak, for Christ's sake!

Barefoot, she ran up the stairs, glancing behind her. Her heart sped as she saw he was right at her heels. That's when she felt him grab on to her ankle and pull her down. She lost balance; she was at the last step, and she fell face-forward onto the marble floor. She cried out when her mouth connected with the floor. She tasted blood on her tongue, and she began to cry as pain erupted in her mouth. Her heart was telling her to run, because Blair Waldorf would not die in her nightgown!

She felt his grip ease on her ankle and she began crawling to her bedroom. He was on his knees on the stairs and slowly standing up, smirk still in place.

"As charming as it is for you to struggle-"

She was almost in her room. If she was going to die, she was going to die in her room.

"-I'm tired of the cat and mouse game. The truth is-"

Half her body was now in her room.

"-if I wanted you dead already… we'll let's just say you'd be dead already." He smiled and studied her for a moment before he shrugged and bent down to grab her.

She was going to cry out, but before she could, she heard three gunshots and she screamed.

The blond man stared at her, then at his chest, and then down the stairs.

She followed his gaze, she would've been thanking her lucky stars that the police was here, but she was too busy having an outer body experience.

Oh, my god, she had died!

It wasn't so bad. She was in silk. Her hair was decent. Chuck was wearing all black and saving her from her attacker. Death wasn't so bad.

She welcomed death.

But, of course, death usually didn't include a body suddenly falling on you.

She screamed once more as the blond man's body slumped on top of her. She scrambled out from under him and looked to see if vision of Chuck was gone.

Only it wasn't.

He was now standing over her, real as can be, wearing black and holding a gun in his hand.

She let out a cry before he bent and looked at her eye-level.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked.

She just stared at him.

"Am I dead? Did you come get me?" She whispered.

He studied her face. His own face was dark and serious, and she didn't understand how a dead person could be so sad.

"Jesus, you're bleeding," he whispered.

"I'm dead. It's ok," she whispered back, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, Blair," he said, and she saw such sadness in his eyes that she let tears fall from her eyes.

"For what?" She asked, drinking in the sight of him.

"For destroying your life," he said and his voice was low and calculated.

"I'm fine." She gave him a smile.

"You're not going to be fine anymore." He then grabbed her by the arms and stood her up.

His touch was so real that she recoiled and stumbled against the wall, backing as far from this _person_ as she could.

Realization began to register in her face.

"I'm not dead." She stated, staring at him. "You're not dead."

It suddenly hit her full-force. He wasn't dead. _He wasn't dead._

He was Chuck but a… grown-up Chuck. One that her mind couldn't have invented. A muscular, serious, sexy-as-hell Chuck that she had never seen. Wearing black fatigues.

"You're not dead," she repeated again.

"No," He stated finally and looked down, placing his gun in the holster stuck to his right thigh.

"You're not dead," she said this time louder. "You sick son of a fucking bitch, you're not dead!"

"Blair…" he began, but she had already slapped him.

"You're not dead!" She screamed.

She stared at him, eyes wide and willing him to deny it. She let out a sob.

"You're not dead," she whimpered.

"Five years ago," he began his voice low. "I saw something I shouldn't have… the morning I left you."

She chocked back a sob, burying her face in her hands.

"They faked my death. They made me join a secret sector of the government, and I was to have no contact with anyone I knew."

She stared at him, hate rolling off her in waves. She was trembling. She was nauseous. She still tasted blood in her mouth.

She saw his jaw twitch, and she let the tears pour out of her eyes.

"I've tried to stay away… because… they said that if I ever came near you. They would kill you."

She stopped crying and looked at him.

"But I saw you with Nate…" He became quiet and looked down at the floor. "I just… I just wanted to smell you."

She hiccupped.

"Tonight, I was careless, and they saw me. In the bathroom."

Her eyes went wide with realization.

"You were there," she said slowly and her eyes studied him. "The night that Russian man was killed-"

"_I_ killed him. It was my first assignment." He said his voice low and dangerous. It sent chills down her spine.

She slapped again.

"I buried you!" She screamed in his face. "I saw your casket _lowered_ to the ground."

"I was there," he said softly. "They made me decide as I watched you sob on Nate's shoulder."

She slapped him once more.

"Stop it!" He snapped and grabbed her hand.

"Do you know how many tears I have cried over you? How many years of my life I just wasted because I loved you?" She yelled, tears being replaced by blind anger. "Because my love was dead, and I just couldn't deal!"

He starred at her without saying a word.

"I hate you. I hate you so much that I love you," she finally said.

"I've never hated you," he said and clutched her hand for dear life. "I hated myself."

"You said," her face finally crumbled. "You said 'just a few hours'. I waited for you."

He was going to hold her. God, he wanted to hold her, but he gasped and looked down at his thigh.

Blair cried out as she saw a knife sticking out of it.

The blond man was smiling directly at her, blood dribbling out of his mouth.

"Bullet. Proof. Vest. Baby."

"Chuck!" She cried but Chuck was faster and pushed her to the side. She watched in horror as Chuck pulled the knife from his leg in a swift motion backed away into the room, never taking his eyes off the man.

"That was touching, Bass." The blond man limped yet still crouched, ready for an attack. "All these years. The boy and his torch."

"Jenkins. I always knew it would come down to this," Chuck told him.

"But you never did win any of the practice ones, did you?" Jenkins pulled out another knife, and now they both faced each other in her room with knives in their hands. "And when I'm done gutting you… I'll be enjoying the girl next."

Blair hoped that wouldn't make Chuck react rashly, but this was apparently a new Chuck because all the comment did was make his jaw twitch.

Chuck jumped on Jenkins, and she cried out when they knocked down her night table, getting lost in a flurry of arms, legs, knives. She placed her hands over her eyes, just praying that Chuck would win and kill the mother fu-

The police!

She bolted and ran to her phone, but her path was suddenly blocked by Chuck flying into her vanity. He broke it, and now she would have to get a new one.

"Stay back!" He barked at her as he jumped up and went for Jenkins.

She went into her bathroom and looked longingly at her phone on top of her bed. Oh, and Dorota! That son of a bitch hurt Dorota! She was furious! And worried. Poor Dorota! She made a memo to buy her some jewelry… if she ever made it out of this alive.

Her eyes were fixed on the fight before her. Apparently Chuck had certainly learned a thing or four, and she had to say she was impressed. Like Jet Li impressed. She should be horrified—she should be hiding behind her Ralph Lauren shower curtain, but it was… sexy. She studied his movements. He was slick, like a cat. He knew Jenkins' moves and knew them better than his own.

Her room was quickly becoming a disaster. They had destroyed half of it. Chuck turned to make sure she was all right, and they shared a longing moment before she yelled.

"Chuck!" She cried as Jenkins came behind Chuck with the knife in hand and a wild look in his eyes.

Chuck reacted and swiftly turned, dislodging the knife from the man's hands. Now both men were without weapons, so they faced each other, breathing hard with blood on both their faces. They looked around and began using her room as a weapon. Everything from vases her mother had gotten her in Paris to her mirror – oh, not the mirror!

Finally Jenkins hit Chuck sharply on the side of his head with what was left from her vanity chair, and he slumped on the floor. Jenkins breathed hard and then began kicking Chuck, making his boot connect sharply with his ribs. Chuck attempted feebly to block the attacks, but he looked dazed.

"Stop it!" She cried out, and quickly realized what a mistake that was, because Jenkins' attention was now on her. She backed up against the bathroom and looked around for something to hit him with.

Chanel.

A girl always needed Chanel.

She grabbed her bottle of Coco Mademoiselle and threw it with all her might, clonking Jenkins sharply on his head.

"Bitch!" He yelled, holding his head. She had cut him! G.I. Blair!

She felt a satisfied tingle until he continued towards her. His hands were nearly on her. She cried out and stepped over the toilet. That's when something red, maybe black with white, flew through the air and landed on Jenkins.

Her eyes went wide as she realized it was Chuck's scarf.

The scarf was then tightly pulled back and Jenkins landed on his knees with Chuck standing over him, pulling on his old scarf with all his might. Jenkins attempted to grab onto something—anything—but Chuck was pulling like his life depended on it.

The veins in his neck all popped up and Blair blanched, especially when his hands reached the end of her robe and began grasping for something to hold onto.

Chucked pulled harder, and Jenkins gurgled. He was turning some weird shade of purple, and Blair couldn't watch. She adverted her eyes, whimpering at his alarming noises, trying not to feel his hands against her skin.

Chuck gave one last yank and the man let out a guttural cry and was left standing limp with only the scarf supporting him. Chuck released the body, and it slumped forward as Blair scattered out of the way. Chuck calmly walked over it and checked this time to make sure he was dead.

"He's dead," he informed her quietly.

"You strangled him with your scarf!" She was appalled. She would never look or think back on that scarf in the same way again, no matter how good the sex had been.

"Don't mock the scarf." He gave her a sideways glance.

She didn't know if it was the entire situation or the fact that he had just saved her or that he was alive, but she threw herself against him and held on for dear life, letting out a sob.

"You're ok," he whispered, making her stand with him and holding her close.

"_I'm_ ok? You're ok! You're alive!" She touched his face, a smile taking over her face. "I'm _fantastic_."

He touched her bleeding mouth gently and his face darkened. "We need to get out of here. Now."

There was a sense of urgency in his voice that made her decide not to question him.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he pulled her out of her bathroom.

He crouched into her closet and pulled out her small travel bag, tossing it on her bed and looking around her room.

"Grab what you need, _just_ what you need," he said, taking in her lost expression. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"I don't care," she said and moved closer to him, staring at his bruised and bleeding face. "You're hurt."

"I've been hurt worse," he said nonchalantly. She nodded and walked to her drawers, pulling things out blindly. "Dorota!" She remembered.

"She's downstairs, drugged. She'll be fine," he said, helping her toss things in her bag.

Her mind was traveling a mile an hour. She was running away. She was running away with Chuck. It was scandalous, ridiculous, but she'd never felt happier in her life.

"Where are we going?" She asked again quietly once he had zipped up her bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

His jaw twitched, and he looked down at her. Then he reached out and caressed her cheek.

"Somewhere they can't hurt you," he said. She nodded and let him take her hand as they made it out of her room.

--

"What do you mean, 'she's gone?'" Nate asked into the phone, waking Jenny. "Serena, calm down. I can't understand you!"

He sat on the bed and pulled his pants up his slim hips.

"Ok, ok," he said, trying to appease Serena. "I'll be there in a minute."

He hung up and grabbed the nearest shirt, pulling it over his head. Jenny, fresh from sleep, looked at him worriedly.

"Blair's gone." He took a deep breath and glanced at her. "The house is a mess and there's… blood."

Jenny gasped and sat up, grabbing her robe.

"I'll go with you," she said quickly.

He shook his head and grabbed her shoulders. "I'll call you from there."

Jenny made a whimpering sound.

"Hey, I'm sure she's fine. Ok?" He said and kissed her forehead.

--

Blair now sat watching Chuck drive their fifth stolen car. They abandoned the cars every three hours. His leg was wrapped in a tourniquet, and he was focused, always staring straight ahead.

"You're tired," she said quietly.

He glanced at her. "You can't drive."

She looked down at her hands. "How long are we going to run for?"

"For as long as it takes," he said and then reached out to pull her towards him.

They were in a small pick-up truck, and she easily slid next to him, snuggling against him.

"I can't believe you're alive." She smiled into his shirt.

He pressed his hand on her head and pulled her against him. "I'm sorry."

"I feel like I've been living in a dream," she whispered.

They drove in silence for a few hours before he decided they needed to find a place to rest for a while. The hotel was small, dingy, and gross.

He wouldn't dream of ever bringing her to a place like this, but they had to lay low.

"We can sleep a few hours," he told her as she surveyed the room. The carpet was orange, the TV set looked dangerous, and she was pretty sure things were moving under the duvet. If you could call that a duvet.

She watched as he placed her bags down and unbuckled his utility belt, letting it drop to the bed. His leg was still bleeding and he had been suppressing a limp.

"We need to get your cut cleaned," she said, coming closer as he sat down with a hiss on the bed.

He carefully pulled his shirt off and Blair gasped. His torso was full of angry purple bruises, some were angry black already.

"You need to see a doctor," she insisted, sitting next to him and helping him with his shirt.

"I'll be fine," he said, tossing the shirt to the side. "No broken ribs, just bruises."

She took him in. He certainly wasn't the little boy she had last seen in high school. His arms were strong and defined, his chest was muscular and wider, his stomach sported washboard abs she had never seen on him.

"See something you like?" He drawled and, just like that, her old Chuck was back. She smiled and looked down.

"You look different," she said, smiling a bit.

"Yeah – I tried more athletic activities." He unbuckled his pants.

"Bathroom," she motioned, helping him into the yellowish room. She grimaced when she saw the tiles, but at least they had clean towels and running water. She had him sit on the toilet and helped pull his pants down. He let out a hiss when the tourniquet was released, and she had to hold back a gag.

"Grab my bag. I have an aid kit," he said through his teeth as she pressed a towel against the gaping wound.

She came back quickly with a large white bag and dumped the contents on the sink. She turned on the water in the tub and started filling it up.

"Not the way I imagined you and I being in the same room once more," he tried some humor as she helped him sink into the water.

"I don't care how I spend it, as long as I'm with you," she said honestly, kissing his forehead as he leaned back and sighed, enjoying the calming effect of the water.

Of course, she had almost passed out at the amount of blood, but he had calmly talked her through it. By the time his wound was dressed they were both beyond exhausted. She helped him to bed and took off her own clothes, leaving her in nothing but underwear.

He motioned for her to join him and she rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"I don't want to sleep," she whispered to him, touching his face.

He kissed her then, a soft kiss on her soft lips. Before he pulled away, he was asleep. She watched him for a moment; watched the slow rhythm of his breathing, the way his eyelashes fell on his cheeks. His hair was short, shorter than she'd ever seen it, but still as soft. He had an ugly scar over his right eye – another story, perhaps?

"You came back to me," she whispered to his sleeping face. "You came back. A few hours later than promised, but you came back."

She let a few tears fall as she stared at him. Then she fell asleep against her will.

--

Serena sat staring straight ahead in the Waldorf greeting area. Nate saw her and sighed, walking to her slowly.

It had been hours now. Blair was gone, no traces of her. No traces of the intruder. It was like someone had come in and vacuumed the room of evidence. Only Blair's blood was found at the top of the stairs. Her room was a mess but, once more, nothing. No evidence. An open box of full of pictures of Chuck was the only thing that made the dread build in his stomach.

Nate sat next to her and buried his face in his hands.

"If they find her… like they did Chuck…" Serena said slowly. "Please don't tell me. I'd rather live thinking she's somewhere out there. Happy. Alive. Free."

Losing your best friend. Now that was something Nate knew entirely too much of. He reached out and pulled his friend against his chest as she began sobbing. He had to be strong. He had to be the strong one. If Blair was really gone, then all that was left of their little Breakfast Club was just the two of them.

It used to be so simple when they were young. Serena was wild, Blair was elegant, Chuck was just plain bad and he, Nate, would sit back and enjoy it all.

Everything was just fucked up.

--

When he woke, he felt uncharacteristically warm and content. There was a pleasant sensation going through him. One he couldn't describe because it had been so long since he had felt it.

He opened his eyes slowly and met a pair of wide brown eyes looking down at him.

"You were watching me?" His voice was hoarse.

"I was worried. You've been sleeping for hours." Her voice was small and quiet.

"I'm ok," he assured her, and the tension in her neck visibly relaxed. She laid back down on his shoulder and wrapped her small, white arms around him.

"We should get going," he said after laying in silence, enjoying the feeling of completion that was spreading through him. It felt foreign, yet fantastic. Like the first time he had sex. Magical, even.

"You're still-"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. She leaned into him and kissed him. She kissed him like she wanted to make sure he was real.

When she pulled back her forehead was resting on his. "Promise me that you'll never leave me again. Ever."

He tucked a hair behind her ear. "I can only do that if we get a move on it."

The next car they stole was a 76' Gray Grand Am. She hated it, but loved it at the same time. As Chuck sped down the highway, she laid down on the seat and put her head out the window, her legs on his lap. She laughed as the wind tossed her hair every which way and he watched her with a smile on his face.

"Charles Bass!" She cried at him, and his heart felt alive and free.

"What?" he cried back, shouting above the wind.

"I love you, Charles Bass!" And she broke out in laughter.

He let out a laugh of his own.

_Te quiero escribir una poesía de amor _

_que hable de ti, que hable de mí. _

_Serán versos en el aire que puedas respirar, _

_que te empapen el alma, que te empapen de amor;_

"I-" And the words were so foreign to him, that he didn't know how to say it. He suddenly pulled to the side of the road, startling her.

"What happened?" Her hair was a mess, and she looked worried. He swiftly got on top of her, capturing her lips with his own, savoring the taste of her early in the morning.

When he pulled back she was flushed and glassy-eyed.

"Chuck," she whimpered at the loss of contact.

"I should have told you this a lifetime ago." He brushed back her hair and kissed her temple. "I love you," he whispered against the skin of her brow.

He carefully pulled back to look at her, apprehensively.

"Well, finally." A smile broke out over her porcelain features, and she pulled him back down, continuing their kiss. The leather felt hot and sticky against their skin, the bruises they both sported brought them pain and their tongue found the pleasure.

_serán letras con verdad unidas en mi corazón _

_para decirte que te amo, que te quiero, _

_que te sueño, que te necesito._

It was uncomfortable; it was a tangled mess. It was hot; it was sexy. She threw her head back as he entered her over and over again, making gurgling sounds in the back of her throat. Pulling his hair down, pulling him to her – legs wrapped around each other, slipping against each other. Moans of pain from him as his bruises reminded him he was still human, but he continued, letting the pleasure take over the pain and conquer it. This moment would have to make up for a lifetime of tears, a lifetime of stolen glances, of verbal wars, of longing, of regret, a lifetime of fucking up that which one should hold most sacred. Love.

Her breath was hot against his neck as she clawed his back, pressing her breasts against the hairs of his chest. Moaning, yelling, and at one point crying out with pleasure and relief against his mouth, his open panting mouth. And they were shaking. Shaking against each other because surely heaven had nothing on this.

"We must have a thing for moving vehicles," he murmured against her belly, and she chuckled, running her fingers through his hair, once they had regained their senses.

_Cómo puedo explicar lo que el alma intenta decir, _

_trato de entender que amar puede ser así. _

_Evitaré mientras pueda martirizar mi existir, _

_dejaré al azar la suerte de sentirte aquí._

"I want to stay here forever," she said wistfully. He would've kept her there for a lifetime, but he was conscious that he needed to keep her safe. Needed to keep himself alive in order to ensure her safety.

As night fell, he found them another motel, much the same as the previous one. She didn't make a face when they entered this one. She did go straight to shower while he found them some food.

They ate watching TV, her hands rubbing his back as he leaned forward to capture his dripping sandwich in his mouth. She made small comments about friends back home. It was intimate; like there was no need to fight, to argue because, really, was it worth it in the end? He didn't need to say anything, and she understood him; a small touch would signify an entire sentence and it would be understood.

"Can we let Serena and Nate know?" She asked after a while, as he washed down his meal with a beer.

He turned to her and told her 'no' with his eyes. She sighed and looked down, holding his hand in hers.

They sat in comfortable silence, and when he stood to shower, she pulled him down on top of her, invading his mouth with years of spent-up passion. He lingered there against her because she smelled like lilacs. She always smelled like lilacs.

He went to shower, watching her eyes dark with the promise of what would be waiting for him in bed.

The water felt amazing against his skin. He gingerly made sure his wound was clean. She had done a good job with the butterfly stitch. It was all they could do in the circumstances. He dried and the thought of finding her in bed made a rush go through him. No clothes needed. The towel was easier to drop and get down to the business of pleasure.

But she wasn't there.

His body shifted to killer-mode, and he crouched, eyeing the room.

"Blair?" He asked quietly.

His mind went wild. She wasn't there. _She wasn't there._

He pulled the gun from his bag and walked carefully to the door. The door was opened, and he ran outside.

A young man with grungy blond hair was standing there, with beer in his hand a tie-die shirt. His eyes were wide and he looked pale.

"Dude, I think someone just took your girlfriend."

--

When Blair woke up, she felt like puking. Her body felt like it had been tossed around in a sac.

She couldn't remember anything. Did she get drunk? Was she still drunk? Oh, my god. She was been dreaming, She dreamt Chuck being alive. Making love to him in a gray Pontiac as he pressed her against the hot leather, cleaning his wounds, waking up in his arms, and tasting beer on his lips. She was completely gone. Because Chuck Bass would never drink beer.

She sat up, noticing that she was in nothing but bra and panties. And they didn't even match! She was standing in a sterile white room with not one bit of furniture. Was she in an asylum? Had she finally lost it?

"Good morning, Ms. Waldorf." A voice said and she looked around startled.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions but let me clarify that none of them are to be answered right now."

--

To be continued

Lyrical Translations (thanks to Tati for doing the translation)

_"I want to write you a love poem_

_That speaks of you, that speaks of me_

_There will be verses with air that you can breathe_

_That will fill up your soul, fill it up with love_

_There will be letters with truth united to my heart_

_To tell you that I love you, that I want you_

_That I dream of you, that I need you_

_How can I explain what my soul tries to say?_

_I try to understand that love can be like this_

_I'll avoid it while I can martyr my existence,_

_I'll leave it to fate and luck, just to feel you here again."_


	5. Truth That Sets Us Free

Truth That Sets Us Free (Chapter 5 of 'The Once & Future Bass') "When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would

**Truth That Sets Us Free** (Chapter 5 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_)

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators.

--

"_...intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it's all written there," – The Alchemist_

"Checkmate," he said into the phone. "Don't do it."

The line was silent on the other end.

"Don't you think your time for making demands is over? Wasn't that your first lesson?"

"Don't do it," he said quietly. "And I'll come back. Just don't do it."

"Do you really think that we will let her go after all she knows?" The voice was amused on the other end. "You know the rules, no recruits after 21."

He closed his eyes and shut down the world around him.

"Give her the serum," he finally whispered.

There was a chuckle on the other line.

"How very noble of you."

"Give her the fucking serum and take her home."

And he hung up. He looked at the wall in front of him and violently punched it. It left a hole in the plaster, but that was nothing compared to the hole in his soul.

--

Blair was sitting in a corner, her knees tucked under her chin as silent tears dribbled down her face.

They hadn't fed her, and she was dying to use the restroom. She refused to urinate with God-knows-who looking. So she sat and waited. Because surely Chuck would come for her. That was, of course, her biggest worry. If he came for her… they would kill him. She couldn't survive mourning him again. Not when she had just found him. Not now, when she realized their love was much more than a high school dream. This was the man she was going to love for the rest of her life, and she couldn't handle losing him. Losing him would mean losing herself.

She jumped when a door opened in what she previously thought was a wall. She backed up further into her corner as a regal woman entered. She wore a tight-fitting gray suit with five-inch heels and square black-framed glasses. Her hair was cropped short and perfectly styled. It was blonde, and Blair was sure she had the coldest green eyes she had ever seen.

A large man came in after her with a folded chair in one hand and a small white box in another. He handed the woman the box and opened the chair for her. He then went to stand by the entrance, looking blankly at Blair.

The woman elegantly took a seat, crossed her legs, placed the box on her lap and stared openly at Blair, taking in her near-nudity.

Blair flushed. She was in her underwear and she felt vulnerable and lost.

"My parents named me Paula, but you will call me 27. I am the voice you heard. I'm always the voice."

Blair pulled her legs closer to her.

"Your rogue lover has placed you in this predicament, you know. You should be upset at him. All he had to do was leave you alone, pretend you were dead… yet he couldn't. When his training mentor died, he became… melancholic. Yes, melancholy is what I like to think happened to him. You attracted him in a way that he couldn't control."

27 patted the box with fondness.

"So you can understand how I blame you entirely for his fall from grace," 27 smiled at Blair. "I blame you for making us lose one of our best agents."

"You kidnapped him," Blair said in a low voice. She hated this woman. She didn't know this woman, but she her.

"I do hate reliving the past." She took a breath and opened her box. "I just had a call from dear Charles."

27 let the implications of her words sink into Blair, and this made Blair stand up.

"If you hurt him-"

27 laughed a strange icy laugh.

"Really… if I was a romantic, I would be touched."

Blair shut up and stared at her.

"But the fact is that I'm not a romantic." She said the words slowly and pulled out from the box a needle.

Blair gulped and backed away once more.

"So, like I was saying, dear Charles called." 27 looked at the needle, lovingly. "He _demanded_ that I give the serum. Serum 34, as we like to call it. You see, last year, our brave hero intercepted a shipment of Serum 34 en route from Hong Kong to Moscow. This serum has the ability to make you forget. A type of imposed amnesia."

Blair looked at the needle in horror.

"Because, you see, if you don't forget… you have two choices. We either kill you… or you join us. The second option is only given to those we find to have potential. To be honest with you… you have no potential. We don't take recruits older than 21. You're past your expiration date, and he knows it. He knows that this will be the only way to save you."

27 pulled out a vial from the box and gingerly inserted the needle into it.

"No," Blair begged. Blair Waldorf had never begged for anything in her life, but she was ready to beg until she lost her voice. If she thought it would help.

"I do apologize, darling. But you have no choice in the matter. Besides, it seems that young Bass has already made that choice for you. He rather live the rest of his life watching you from shadows than know that you died because he just couldn't stay away."

Tears began to fall from Blair's cheeks.

"I don't want to forget, please. I can't," she pleaded.

27 ignored her pleas and tossed the vial in the box once the syringe was filled. She stood and the man standing by the door took that as his cue, walking towards Blair.

Blair shouted and attempted to get away from the large man, but he swiftly grabbed her. She struggled against him, punching him with her small fists and scratching when she could. This didn't deter him as he turned her around, pressed her against the wall.

"It's rather fitting, really." She heard 27 say behind her as her own tears dribbled down her face, her breath coming in short gasps. "The same serum he found in order to save people from going through what he had to endure… is now being used on you. The woman he claims he loves."

Blair let out a cry of indignation as she felt 27 lower her panties, but the struggling didn't stop this nightmare from occurring.

"Like I said… If I was a romantic, I would be touched," 27 murmured.

Blair's mind raced. She had to think; she had to be quick. She had mere seconds.

She felt the needle sink into her and she cringed.

"Wait!" She said with renewed determination. "You want to play. I can play."

She felt 27 pause and listen to her. She could almost see her raising a finely arched brow.

"You're just doing what he wants." Blair's mind raced. "You're being his bitch."

Blair hissed when 27 dug the needle deeper into her hip.

"Inject me and he will get what he wants. You will be out of cards. How will you blackmail him? He found me once, he will find me again." Blair closed her eyes. "_Pretend_ you injected me and hide me. Make him think that I went back to my normal life. Make him think that I forgot. Make him think I am living my life."

She could feel 27 touching her bare hip and pelvis, almost caressing and she pushed back the shudder.

"And then… use me. Use me against him." Blair held back her tears at what she was saying. She had to be strong; she needed to buy them time; she needed to formulate a plan. "When he least expects it. Use me against him."

She felt 27 chuckle softly.

Blair attempted to dislodge the needle that 27 apparently enjoyed twisting inside of her skin.

"Shhh…" 27 murmured against her ear, running her other hand over her hair. Blair bit her lip and hoped that all her years of scheming might now save that which she loved most. Fitting, really. "Get out."

Blair felt the man that was holding her against the wall release her and walk out of the room. Blair stood frozen, 27's hand still caressing her pelvis while holding her hostage with the needle.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully," 27 whispered against her ear. "The control you think you have is nothing."

Blair jerked when 27 licked her ear.

"Next time, there will be no needle. No mere seconds of pleading. You mess this up and I will personally slit his throat. I will slit it as you watch. Then I will place his body in your arms so he can twitch in them. Trust me. That type of blood never. Leaves. Your. Hands," she emphasized.

Blair cried out when 27 roughly pulled out the needle out and flipped her over so she could look at her.

Her eyes were as cold as if her soul had been sucked out. 27's fingers gently touched Blair's lips, studying her face.

"You think you know what evil is? You think you know what scheming is?" 27 said quietly and Blair could almost detect a hiss to her voice. "No one will save you then-"

"Paula."

Blair froze when she heard the voice and apparently 27 did also. Blair saw her visibly swallow and then pushed herself off Blair to turn to look at the new speaker.

Blair felt the blood drain from her face. She didn't think she could take more surprises.

"Are you done playing with your food?" The new woman asked.

27 calmly walked to her chair and threw the needle in the box and _huffed_ out of the room.

The woman turned to look at Blair once 27 had walked out.

Blair pulled her panties up and still looked at the woman wide-eyed.

The woman walked to her and calmly handed her a long leather coat.

"Put this on."

Blair's trembling hand reached out, and she quickly covered herself with the coat. The woman then gave her a tissue and Blair shakily wiped her tears while trying to avoid those eyes. But they were so intense that she couldn't look away.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to undo what you've volunteered yourself to do."

The woman reached out the touch Blair's shoulder, but Blair flinched. "No one will hurt you… for now."

The woman turned and walked out, and Blair followed her out of the room as a horrible sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

--

When Serena walked downstairs to the living room of the Waldorf house, she was not surprised to see her stepfather in the lobby. For some years now, Bart Bass had a soft spot for the Waldorf family and especially for Blair. Serena could tell, though he never let on.

"How is she doing?" Bart asked, referring to Eleanor. His face never gave anything away, but Serena knew by now that he wouldn't be here unless he was concerned.

"I few valiums make anyone ok," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Bart stuck his hands in her pockets and stood in his stance, which reminded Serena a lot of how Chuck used to stand.

"I have all my people working on it," he explained, avoided her gaze. "I'll see if there's anything I can do."

"Harold is also working on it, Bart. I'm sure she'll be thankful, but it's not necessary." Serena took a seat and sighed.

"It's the least I can do," he said tersely. "I know, after all, what it feels like to lose a child."

Serena looked up at him. After almost six years of being her stepfather, they hadn't had a conversation this long, and she wasn't sure were to go with this.

"Of course," Serena said quietly. But Blair couldn't be gone. Not gone like Chuck. She just couldn't.

"Perhaps Daniel and yourself would like to join Lily and I for dinner tonight? Since Eric moved out, Lily has been missing both of you terribly," he explained after a moment's hesitation.

Serena slowly nodded. "Sure."

"If my son was still around, I would've liked him to come over with his wife," Bart said in a voice that Serena didn't recognize, and she didn't know whether to say sorry or lock herself in the bathroom.

Bart simply nodded and walked to the elevator. Just when you thought Bart Bass was a robot, you realized he was human.

Serena noticed the large bouquet of flowers left on the table and knew distinctly that they hadn't been there before. What _was_ it about Bass men and flowers?

--

Blair took a seat on the couch in the woman's quarters and stared at her as she moved around the small kitchenette area and prepared a hot cup of tea for Blair. Blair noticed there were flowers. Flowers everywhere.

"I need to use the restroom," Blair said quietly.

The woman nodded without turning to look at her and pointed to the bathroom. When she exited, she found the woman sitting on a small table with a cup in front of her and one waiting for Blair.

Blair tentatively took a seat and studied the woman before her.

Blair remembered when she and Serena were not even seven years old. Bart Bass had moved his family to New York, and the stunning Mrs. Bass was the talk of the town. A former Miss Connecticut, Misty Bass was of Japanese and Irish ancestry. She had long, wavy brown hair and exotic brown eyes. Her skin was pale, and her body was small and dainty. She carried herself with a regal air—she was, after all, the wife of one of the richest men in New York. She also came from old money: the key to Bart Bass getting into the UES.

Blair remembered the first time they were invited to the Bass home. Back then Bart had a large portrait of Misty painted hanging on the foyer. She had her Miss Connecticut crown on and the girls thought she was a princess.

In those days, no one saw much of little Charles Bass. He was a bit sick and couldn't really come out to play, unlike Nate who chased both girls. He was homeschooled by private tutors, and he never really had any friends. When Nate became friends with Charles, the girls saw the small boy more often as he was invited to the park with them. Charles always looked like his mother, but acted like his father. He was quiet, calculating, and arrogant.

Blair remembered one day Charles got pneumonia after staying out with them too long in the park. Misty wouldn't let him out for a while, and when they finally saw Charles he was paler and smaller than usual. Charles was with Misty the night of the accident—the accident that killed her. They were only nine years old, no more than ten, and the next time Blair saw Charles, it was after Misty's funeral.

Nate was standing with him, and she naturally went looking for him. Charles looked her over, studying her, and then proceeded to roll his eyes, which took Blair by surprise. Yes, Charles was arrogant, but he had never been mean to her.

"I'm sorry about your mother, Charles," she had said, half-hiding behind Nate.

Charles had taken a gulp from his soda and cleared his throat.

"It's Chuck now." And he had said it so forcefully that Blair decided even if she felt bad for him, she didn't like this new _Chuck_ person. Of course, years changed things, but Blair always knew that Chuck felt somehow responsible for his mother's death. He had been the one who was sick, so very sick that she made the driver go faster than usual.

Chuck Bass never got sick again. He did stay relatively pale and was never as tall as Nate, but Chuck never let on about his looks. Yet now as Blair sat across from his mother, she realized that they shared the same eyes. The same cool demeanor slightly slanted and the same perfect lips and chiseled jaw.

Misty Bass was completely alive and now sitting across from her. Misty Bass had saved her from 27.

"I imagine you're surprised to see me," Misty said and took a sip from her tea, nodding at Blair for her to do the same.

"Chuck thinks you're dead. Bart thinks you're dead," Blair said, unable to touch her tea.

Misty didn't react, but simply took another sip.

"Some people become monsters by choice, others… by extraneous circumstances."

"Which one are you?" Blair snapped, glaring at Misty.

"You must love my son quite a bit, Ms. Waldorf." Misty let her see a small satisfied smile. "And to think that the last time I saw you two together, you told him he was horribly pale."

"We were nine." Blair reminded her, ignoring the blush of embarrassment.

Misty chuckled and set down her tea. "When he first saw you, you wore a green dress with matching headband, and you carried a white flower in your hand. A white flower for Nathaniel Archibald. He was just six or seven then, but he turned to me and said 'Doesn't she look like a princess, mother? I want to marry that girl, so she can be mine forever.' And I'm sure he's loved you since regardless of who was the recipient of your kisses."

Blair's eyes were wide as she listened to Misty's voice.

"So you understand that when I do what I do, it's not for you. I don't give a shit about you. I do it for my son, so that maybe, perhaps he can get his happy ending."

Blair noticed how Misty's hand almost trembled as she picked up her tea once more.

"I love my son, Ms. Waldorf." She paused. "Once you leave here, I'm going to ask you one thing, just one." Misty's voice was so quiet that Blair had to hold her breath to hear it. "I want you to forget you ever saw me. Never tell him. Ever. And I want you to take care of my son because once you've gained Charles' love… you will have it forever."

Blair finally understood at the moment when someone said they had the weight of the world on their shoulders. Because hers literally sagged.

"What happens now?" Blair asked, finally taking a sip from her tea and enjoying the way it coated her empty stomach.

"He will come back and be informed that you've yet to receive the serum. He will be made to watch as they inject you with it. It's 27's favorite game."

Blair blanched.

"However, they will inject you instead with K-85; which will enable them to pass you off as dead. He will watch you die. All of us had it done, you will wake twelve hours later in the morgue, and we will bring you back to the facility without him knowing. You will be kept in Level 4, the restricted area of Sector and you will stay there until they begin to use you."

Blair took a deep breath.

"My family will think I'm dead?" She asked.

Misty nodded. Eyes boring into her.

Blair buried her face in her hands.

"How will they use me?" she whispered.

Misty took a breath and leaned back in her chair. "He won't handle your death too well, naturally. My guess is that from there they will either attempt to make him lose his mind, or he will ask for a cleansing."

"A cleansing?" Blair felt her heart drop.

"A cleansing of all emotional ties." Misty shrugged. "It makes the best agents."

"If he tries something drastic? Like suicide?" Blair demanded.

Misty chuckled. "My son is dramatic, but he's also five parts selfish. He'll want to take his anger out on as many motherfuckers as he can."

"How exactly do we get away?" Blair finally asked, tightening the coat around her as she shivered.

"During the cleansing. I will make it happen, you just be ready."

"Are you sure he will go for the cleansing?"

"A mother always knows her son, Miss Waldorf."

--

He stared at the building before him. It was a building he both loved and hated. He hated that it had taken everything from him, and he loved that it sheltered him and it made him a stronger Chuck Bass than he ever thought he could be.

Physically, that is. Because emotionally, be was a wreck.

Once he entered those doors the little hope of even staring at Blair again would be gone forever. He would have to pretend she was dead, but at least she would be safe. She would be safe; she would eventually find happiness even if it was as far from his arms as possible.

He steeled himself, walked in, and was immediately pinned down to the floor. He didn't struggle, letting them cuff him and hit him a few times, then take him to 27.

He was planted on his knees, his head looped to the side as 27 walked in. Dressed in red. Of course, what else would the devil wear? Prada?

"Bass, how nice of you to join us," she said calmly. "Impeccable timing."

Chuck an eyebrow, questioningly.

--

"It's time," the man who opened the door to her room informed her. Two days. It had taken Chuck two days to make it to Sector.

She took a deep breath and nodded. She stripped off her clothes and followed the man out of the room.

She could do this. She was Blair fucking Waldorf, for Christ sakes.

--

"You haven't done it yet?" He repeated.

"I must've slipped my mind," she said, coolly.

Chuck's nostrils flared. "It's been 2 days."

"She's been fed," 27 assured him.

"You fucking bitch," Chuck spit out and the rifle-butt of agent #14 connected with his mouth.

"Bring him in." 27 walked away and the two agents dragged him down the hall to a room with which he was all too familiar.

They forced him into the mirror room, were he could see the inside of the holding tank but the holding tank couldn't see them. This was usually 27's room were she gave all the recruits her little speech.

"Sit," she commanded and they roughly dropped him on a chair, facing the holding tank.

"Lights," she said calmly.

Chuck growled when the lights went on and an almost naked Blair scramble. She looked like she'd been sitting in the dark for days – which she probably had. She looked extremely thin and was clearly bruised.

"Blair."

"MissWaldorf," 27 spoke into the transmitter. "Thank you kindly for your cooperation."

"What do you want from me?" Blair cried out, standing up, slowly.

Chuck's jaw clenched when he saw a corner of the room yellowish stains with drops of something brown. He closed his eyes and cursed. They hadn't even let her go to the bathroom.

"Per the request of your estranged lover, you will be given serum 34," 27 explained but never taking her eyes off Chuck who only had eyes for the pale Blair.

"Serum what?" Blair asked, confused.

"This will enable you to return to your normal life, continue on and the only memory you will have is of being kidnapped by a random robber."

"What?" Blair walked to the mirror, studying it.

She was so close to him that the agents next to him had to physically hold him down.

"Where's Chuck?" she demanded.

Chuck gulped.

"Chuck's dead." 27 stated. "Just like you always thought."

"No," Blair shook her head. "No! He's not dead, he's alive, you sick bitch! I will ruin you!"

"It was a pleasure, Miss Waldorf. I assure you."

"No!" Blair cried and began banging on the glass. The door behind her opened and in walked two agents with a lab-coat behind them.

Blair faced them, eyes wide.

"No!" she cried. "Please, no!"

Chuck was pushed down to the seat. "You constipated bitch, you waited for me."

27 took a calm seat next to him. She was enjoying the scene before her; the only thing missing was popcorn.

"Let me see him!" Blair cried as the first man grabbed her. "Please, please let me see him."

27 smiled.

"Let me see him one last time." Blair was sobbing now.

Chuck's jaw was clenched so hard that he was sure he would be missing a molar by the end of this.

"Please, let me see him one last time, please!"

27 looked at Chuck and nodded.

The mirror was brought down between rooms and Blair gasped when she saw Chuck being held down to the chair.

Chuck's mind raced, this was not how he had planned it. Blair was looking at him with wide, frightened eyes – expecting him to save her.

"Blair," he tried.

"Chuc-"

A needle was inserted into her arm and she cried out.

"No!"

"No!" Chuck struggled but the agents hit him twice and kept him down.

Blair hung limp on one of the agent's arm and looked up at him, tears running down her face.

"In the face of true love, you don't just give up…" she whispered but he heard every word. "I want to remember. I want…" She took him in one last time, a ghost of a smile on her lips and then her head slumped forward.

"No!" he cried and this time it was 27 who hit him hard across his jaw. Years ago this would've knocked him out. Now it made him glare at her with all the hatred he could muster. She pulled him against her, grabbing his face and touching his bruised lip.

"The next time you attempt to hold all the cards in your hands remember that I'm soulless and you're not." She hissed, kissed him and pulled back when he tried to bite her. She chuckled, enjoying it.

"27!" the lab coat cried from next to Blair who was now laid out on the floor.

Chuck looked at Blair's body and his blood ran cold when he saw her twitching involuntarily.

"What's happening?" 27 demanded, turning her full attention to Blair.

"She's having an adverse reaction to the serum." He replied, checking her pulse.

"Get her to fucking medical." 27 snapped.

"Blair!" Chuck cried, the veins in his neck swelled as the agents tried to hold him down.

"No time, she's going into fucking cardiac arrest!" the lab coat yelled into his transponder and called for the medical staff.

"Do something!" Chuck cried to 27. She ignored him and walked to Blair's body.

She pressed her fingers against her neck and looked up at Chuck. His mind literally paused when he saw something in her eyes that he had never seen.

Concern.

"You're killing her!" Chuck shouted, he was able to pull away from one of the agents and that gave him enough leverage to punch the other out and knock the other unconscious.

"Stop him!" 27 snapped to the guards that had previous held Blair down but Chuck was faster and knocked them down easily.

"You'll kill her!" 27 told him as he strode to Blair. "Let the medical staff through."

Chuck looked at the twitching Blair and stood back as two other lab coats that were afraid to enter because of the rogue agent walked in.

The two men started injected Blair with all types of things, hooking up portable cables to her as Chuck stood by and began pacing.

"We're loosing her," one of them hissed.

Chuck knelt down by them and pressed his hand to his mouth, eyes wide.

The Blair stopped twitching.

"Fuck, she's not breathing," the coat cried.

Chuck pushed him to the side and lifted Blair's chin. He pressed his mouth to hers and blew air into her mouth. He blew again. She was turning seriously pale, his hands were shaking but he tried to remember his training.

Chuck stopped and looked down at her.

"Blair," he begged.

He pressed his mouth to hers once more.

"We've got no pulse," the medic pushed Chuck back and took out his AED kit. Chuck ran his hands through his hair as the medic placed one pad over her heart the other right under her breast.

"Clear," he heard them say and Blair's body lifted from the floor.

He heard someone sob and it was a second later when he realized it was him.

They placed an air pump over her mouth.

"Nothing," one of them said.

"Do it again," Chuck demanded.

The medic looked him over and nodded.

"Clear."

"Nothing."

"Fuck," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Blair, please, please don't do this. Please."

"Again," this time it was 27.

The medics looked at her, fearfully.

"That's a direct order," she commended and they finally nodded.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

They all sat staring at Blair's pale body. Chuck was entranced by the way her lashes fell over her cheeks.

"Time of death 5:27." The words filtered into his mind.

"No!" he cried and pushed them back away from her body. He began pumping her right under her rib cage.

"1, 2, 3," he murmured under his breath and then lifted her chin once more and pumped air into it.

"1, 2, 3," he repeated.

He continued the same pattern until finally, after twenty minutes the rational side of his brain took control and he closed his eyes.

"Bass," he heard 27's voice next to him.

"Don't speak," his voice was cold and raw.

She was silent.

He gently picked up Blair's body and stood up, holding her against him. He walked to a side of a room and sunk down, holding her body to him and began rocking her.

27 watched him.

He saw people come in and out of the room; none of them came near him as he rocked Blair back and forth. She began to feel cold in his arms and he was no longer willing nor able to stop the tears.

Finally the head doctor came in and began whispering to 27.

"She must have had a heart condition," he murmured.

"None in her medical records," 27 hissed back, obviously upset.

"I don't know, maybe she was bulimic!" the man said exasperated.

This made Chuck look at him. 27 noticed and she walked closer.

"Was she bulimic?" 27 asked.

Chuck swallowed because he was sure he was going to throw up.

"Yes. At one point. For some years," he said slowly.

Behind 27 the doctor nodded and gave 27 a knowing look.

Chuck let out a growl and banged the back of his head against the wall he had been leaning on.

"Chuck," 27 spoke his name for the first time. "Let her go. We need to return her to her family."

Chuck held on tighter to Blair's body.

"Let her go, Bass," 27 used her cold voice he glared up at her.

He didn't bulge.

"You killed her, the least you can do is let her go," 27 finally said.

Her words cut into him and his arms felt like Jell-O. He had killed Blair. He knew she had been bulimic. He knew the serum; he himself had to do extensive research before acquiring it. He had _demanded_ they give Blair the serum. His desperate need to save her had inadvertently killed her.

He had killed the love of his life.

He had killed Blair Waldorf.

--

To be continued


	6. Never Play Dice with the Devil

**Never Play Dice With the** **Devil** (Chapter 6 of _'The Once & Future Bass'_) _"When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators.

--

"_No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world. And normally he doesn't know it." – The Alchemist_

When Blair blinked her eyes and woke up, she felt like she could barf for the rest of her life. It was something she was used to.

"It's normal," a voice told her, and she looked to her side to find Misty Bass sitting calmly, legs crossed, watching her. Blair was lying in a sterile bedroom that reminded her eerily of a hospital.

"Is it done?" She asked Misty.

Misty looked tired. More tired than the last time she had seen her. She nodded, not giving anything away.

"How is he?" Blair asked, wincing as she sat up.

"Suicide watch," Misty said. Eyes normal and voice passive.

Blair's eyes widened. "You said he wouldn't do that!"

Misty shrugged. "It's a precaution. He's 27's pet project now, and she will not lose him; not after all the energy she's invested in him."

"I want to see him," Blair insisted.

"Not possible."

"I…" Blair looked down and shut her eyes. "I can't forget his eyes. The last time I saw him."

Misty didn't say anything, just stared at her.

Blair finally opened her eyes and looked around. "Is this Level 4?"

Misty nodded.

"How long have I been asleep?" Blair asked.

"Three days."

Blair sighed. "He's been on suicide watch for three days?"

Misty blinked. "27 is going to see him this evening. She's hoping he asks for the cleansing right away, which he will."

Blair swallowed. "If he agrees, when will the cleansing happen?"

"In a few days," Misty said and stood up. "I will have someone bring you clothes. These are your quarters. I will see you then."

Blair took a deep breath and nodded. "And my family?"

"You're still considered missing."

"They don't think I'm dead?" Blair asked, surprised, relieved. She could've hugged Misty.

"I can't predict everything, Miss Waldorf," Misty said. "I can, however, manipulate it." And she walked away.

--

He stared straight ahead. What else could he do? He could look down, but he had a pounding headache. He could look up, but the lights were too bright. So he looked straight ahead.

His elbows rested on his knees as he sat on the floor. He was barefoot and cold, but he didn't care. The blanket they provided was in the exact same place they had left it, because he didn't care enough to crawl over and get it.

The food they had been providing for him was starting to accumulate. In the evening they would come and pick up all he hadn't eaten during the day.

He waited patiently because he knew that soon 27 would come and offer him what he had already decided to take.

He counted his fingers. He counted the tiles on the wall he faced. He counted the hairs on his arm. He counted the air. He just counted.

He needed to continue counting, because the impending darkness was taking over him. The moment he stopped counting, his mind went back to the night she finally forgave him. The night she forgave him all those years ago.

_He was more excited than ever to go to a party, and he didn't even care that it was the Funchess extravaganza and that they would all meet at Diablo. He just cared that finally Blair was speaking to him. Not just 'Hello, Bass! I didn't know you could come out in the daytime!' But softer words; words that reminded him of a time before Victrola. When they would talk pleasantly without wanting to rip each other's clothes off or possibly smack each other. It felt normal, like he could breathe again. _

_They were all sharing a limo and he was going to pick her up first, of course. Even if it was a few minutes of peace before Nate, Serena, Vanessa and Dan all pilled in. He nervously adjusted his red tux and shifted. He wasn't particularly nervous. He was just… He was anxious. Anxious was fine. Knowing Blair, you could never tell what mood she would be in._

_Once they arrived at her building, he was planning to go up and get her, but she exited the building before he even had a chance to leave the limo. Right, this wasn't a date or anything. Just a bunch of friends going to a party. He hid the flowers he had brought her as she got into the limo. No need to confuse them again._

"_Bass," she greeted, face flushed and looking radiant in red. She always looked radiant, but the fact that they were dressed the same made the 'fluttering' roar to life and he looked away, clearing his throat. _

"_Waldorf," he returned._

_Before he knew it, she had slid over next to him. Her face was entirely too close, and he was pretty sure he looked pale and confused. He could feel her breath on his neck. Shit._

"_Limo not big enough for you?" He inquired, eyebrow raised._

"_I figured, we're friends again, right? Plus, with the rest of brat-pack coming, we might as well make room," she reasoned and fixed her red gloves. The feather in her hair tickled his nose and he made a face._

"_Sorry," she apologized and grinned. "Goes with the outfit."_

"_You look – erm. You look nice," Just friends. It was a friendly comment._

_She smiled at him in a weird way that he didn't know how to catalogue. She had never smiled at him that way. What the hell was he supposed to do with that smile?_

"_So do you. It seems like we're matching buddies today. Peeking in my windows, Bass?" She smirked._

_He blanched._

"_You're so uptight today!" She was in an excellent mood. Was she drunk? "I'm not making you nervous, Bass, am I?"_

_And her lashes fluttered._

_He bit his lip. _

"_Are those flowers?" She inquired, forcing him to stop having naked dream sequences in his lonely head._

_Dammit, he should've thrown them out the window._

"_Yeah. I left them there from last night," he explained quickly._

_She studied him._

"_Had a date. They got left there." He looked away._

"_Oh."_

_They sat in silence._

_Nate was next, trailing in with Vanessa. They all greeted each other almost uncomfortably. Nate and Vanessa had broken up a few weeks before but, for some reason, were still hanging out together. Chuck would never understand that. Because they were honestly just friends. Who does that?_

"_Nice dress," Blair finally said to Vanessa, who had made a surprising attempt in canary yellow. _

"_You two match," Vanessa commented, smirking. "Planned?"_

_When neither Blair nor Chuck answered, Nate decided to clear the air. _

"_That game was awesome last night, right, Chuck?"_

_Both Chuck and Blair turned sharply to Nate._

"_What?" Nate asked confused. _

_Chuck attempted to send mental waves to his best friend to just shut the fuck up, but telepathy was one of the things he had yet to master. _

_Blair turned to Chuck and slowly smiled._

"_Nate, you must've forgotten your flowers," she said sweetly. Chuck glowered at her._

_As they picked up the rest of the party, he noticed Blair sitting up a little straighter and smiling a lot more. _

_When they arrived at Diablo, Serena and Blair went off to make a request to the DJ. Chuck was left to stand with Dan, who looked over at him with an amused expression._

"_What is it, Humphrey?" He growled._

"_Nothing," Dan replied, attempting to hide a smile. "Did you two plan to dress the same?" He finally asked after a while._

_Chuck groaned and grabbed a drink from a passing waiter._

"_No, and before you ask – we're just friends."_

"_Just asking." _

_When Chuck looked at him, it became clear he was withholding information. "What do you know, Humphrey?" He demanded._

"_I know nothing, remember?" Dan smiled, looking as much like an innocent Brooklynite as he could._

"_You know something, and that something has to do with me and Blair." Chuck gave him his most intimidating glare, but Dan was used to them and it didn't have the desired effect._

"_I might've overheard someone telling someone else something about you," Dan said cryptically._

_Chuck smirked. "Humphrey… Are you being a gossip?" He chuckled as Dan squirmed. "You've been officially converted. It must be all the saliva you've inhaled from my dear sister."_

"_Never mind," Dan huffed, but Chuck stopped him from walking away._

"_Spit it out," Chuck demanded and raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently._

"_Apparently, Nate told Serena that he told Blair that you had told him that you were in love with Blair," Dan finally said._

_Chuck blinked. "Nate told-" he attempted to clarify the confusion swirling in his brain. _

"_Nate told Serena that he had blurted out to Blair, your Blair, that-"_

"_That I was in love with her?" Chuck asked, panicked. Dan must've noticed Chuck's panicked expression, because he looked around and led him to a corner. _

"_You ok, man?" Dan asked, concerned. "You look like you're going to be sick."_

_Chuck glowered at him._

"_I'm fine," he hissed._

"_Look, I'm sure he was just trying to help you, ok?" Dan assured him. "Or help all of us out. I mean it's been pretty miserable with you two waging this war against each other."_

_Chuck's thoughts were racing, Blair knew he loved her. He felt sick. No wonder she was nearly on top of him. He felt sick. So basically everyone knew that he loved her, and he hadn't even had the chance to tell her himself. Not that he would know where to begin. _

_He should be grateful to Nate. He should. He was going to strangle him. He dimly heard Humphrey continue with his monologue._

_He felt sick._

"_Ok, they're coming back," Dan told him, shaking him. "Act normal, like I told you."_

"_Told me when?" He asked, eyes wide as he watched Blair and Serena walk towards them, laughing._

"_Just now!" Dan hissed. "Man, you've got it bad!"_

_Chuck glared at him and forced a grimace/smirk on his face._

"_You look sick," Blair told him as she took him in._

"_Bad calamari."_

_Her brows furrowed._

"_Let's dance," she said giddily. He was sure she was drunk. She reached out and grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He dimly heard Serena behind them "You told him what?!"_

_Yeah, let Humphrey get yelled at._

_It was very difficult to continue the 'friends' routine with Blair, especially when she was slipping down his body like that. Rubbing her well-shaped ass against his-_

_Oh, God._

"_Is that a hard-on, or are you just happy to see me?" She said, smirking as she came closer, their faces inches away from each other, her breath lingering on his neck._

_And then he kissed her._

_He kissed her and pulled her against him, and then pulled her off the dance floor, taking her instead towards a dark corner. They ended up on a couch, hands everywhere, making everyone around them uncomfortable._

"_I may just be happy to see you," he told her when she pulled back and attempted to straighten out her dress. She spared him a glace from between her lashes and he smirked._

_He ordered them some drinks and draped his arm around her. She leaned her back into him, and he sighed contently. She looked up at him and smiled._

"_I'm happy to see you, too." And she kissed him lightly._

"_I don't know what is worse: you two fighting or you two making out," Nate commented as he and Vanessa joined them on the couch in front of them._

"_Both are fun," Blair admitted, and he held her closer._

_Serena and Dan walked over to them, holding hands and looking as happy as ever. _

"_There you two went," she commented, giving Blair a sly look. Blair ignored it and took a sip from her Bellini. He always did know what to order her. He looked at no one in particular as he swirled his scotch in his hand._

"_Picture time." Serena pulled a camera from her purse and aimed it at Nate and Vanessa, who groaned but posed anyway. When the camera was then turned to Chuck and Blair, both of them gave an uncharacteristically happy smile. A happy smile that spoke volumes about how they both felt at that precise moment._

"_Oh my God, you both look so cute!" Serena squealed, and Chuck quickly wiped the silly grin off his face. Blair, however, burrowed further into him._

It wasn't until a week later that they finally had sex. He had wanted to treat her right. Take her out to eat, hold hands at school, make-out sessions in the limo. They even went to a concert. What was it about them and one-week relationships? When they first were together, they lasted no more than a week before she went off to Nate. When he finally had her again, they lasted a week before he abandoned her, and the last time they lasted one week before she lost him. And now? Now he had lost her and they didn't even get a week. And now there were no fifth and sixth chances. It was done. Fate had given him her last card. No Queen of Hearts for him.

They just kept losing each other.

Losing each other.

That was the last thought that went through his head before 27 walked into his room and looked down at him, almost with disgust.

"Bass," she greeted, taking a seat in front of him.

He stared at her without blinking.

"While I realize this is a difficult time for you, -"

"Give it to me," he whispered.

She stopped and arched a brow. "So eager, my dear."

Chuck looked her over. Her stoic pose, her unblinking eyes, her thin cheeks, her poised hands.

"Who was he? Or she?" He asked quietly, dark intense stare.

Her jaw clicked, and he noticed, brow rising.

"It was a he." She smiled an empty smile. "His name was Jonathan."

"Do you even feel anything?" He asked cautiously.

"I remember him. You don't forget; you simply remember. Memories are always there, you can just… remember them." She was stoic. "You just don't feel."

"Did he die?" He asked, voice hoarse.

"Yes. I attempted to escape. They slit his throat and left his body in my arms as it twitched."

Chuck swallowed, feeling sick once more.

Was this how he would think of Blair? '_Yes, she died while I tried to save her. She went into cardiac arrest, and I attempted to revive her. She died in my arms, thinking I had given up on her_.'

"It's the only way to survive, Bass." She crossed her legs and leaned back calmly. "Or you could simply end it."

He tilted his head and studied her.

She reached up her skirt and pulled a vial from her garter. She tossed it to him, and he caught it, easily.

She waited for his move. He held the vial in his hand. He could end it. Join Blair. Never have to worry about Sector, 27, or anything else life had to bring him.

How very Romeo and Juliet.

His jaw twitched. He was angry. So angry.

He crushed the vial in his hand and let it cut into him.

"You stay here until it's time," she told him and nodded.

He nodded back, and she stood to go.

"27," he said quietly, and she turned to face him. "Once I'm cleansed… I will kill you."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "You will try."

--

"Are you sure this is safe?" Jenny whispered to him as they entered the building.

"Serena said it would be," he told her, squeezing her hand as he led her to the elevator. When they saw Bart standing inside the elevator, they dropped hands quicker than a hot potato.

"Mr. Bass," Nate greeted as Bart looked them over.

"There's no need to pretend with me," he told them and looked back towards the elevator door.

Nate swallowed and nodded, not knowing what to say as Jenny shifted nervously next to him.

"Who else is here?" He asked Bart.

"Lily is already here."

"So is Dan," Jenny said quietly. Bart spared her a glance.

The elevator door opened just in time to break the tension, and they all stepped in attempting to ignore the awkwardness.

--

Blair shifted nervously in her room. She moved back and forth, back and forth. She had to be strong, she had to remain focused. This was the biggest plot of her life – it was not a time to lose heart. She had to be strong, if only for Chuck. To save him. To save him from robotic hell.

She went over the plan once more in her head as she attempted to ignore the security devices that apparently resided in her room. Thank goodness for Misty, who knew all the tricks in the book. She would've messed up this entire plan by now. She would've probably been dead along with Chuck if Misty wasn't playing the puppet master.

Her door opened and in walked 27.

She straightened and glare at the woman. "We're doing a cleansing on dear Charles. I thought you might like to watch."

Showtime.

"What is a cleansing?" She demanded, hands on her hips.

"A sort of emotional eraser." 27 walked around her room, inspecting it with an upturned nose.

"Why?" Blair demanded. "Haven't you done enough?"

"He asked for it, trust me."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Trust you? I'd rather wear JC Penney's."

27 chuckled. "Is that a yes?"

Blair's nostrils flared.

"Will he be able to see me?" She asked.

"Of course not. You're dead, remember?" 27 walked out of the room and fully expected her to follow. Blair grabbed her jacket and followed her out.

She stood next to 27 in the elevator and resisted the urge to stab her now. She had to be calm. She had to bide her time. She had to be calculating.

"He's being transported as we speak to the memory hold," she explained to Blair as they stepped out of the elevator. Blair took a deep breath and followed her.

She was led to a small room that looked down a full story below them. Chuck was being led by two guards to a white bed with straps on it. Blair pressed her hands and face against the glass.

Chuck looked horrible. She had never seen him look this bad. He had a full week's worth of facial hair, oily hair, sunken eyes and cracked lips. Her heart went out to him because she knew exactly what he was going through. Exactly. This would all be over soon—that was the only thought that kept her going. Hopefully, this would all be over soon.

He voluntarily lowered himself onto the bed and calmly closed his eyes as the guards strapped him down.

"How long does it last?" Blair asked 27, who watched Chuck with a vacant expression.

"A few minutes. Then it's over." The way 27 said those words chilled Blair to the bone, and she had to look away because she had to remember the plan. The guards below made sure Chuck was completely secured, and that's when Blair noticed that across from them was the control center.

Two men in white sat with computers before them, administering the cleansing.

The guards below signaled to 27 that Chuck was ready, and 27 nodded at them, watching them leave the room.

"It really is for the best, you know. In the end, it's for the best," 27 told Blair.

27 looked at a small panel filled with buttons and screens, chose a particular green button and pressed it.

Blair looked down at Chuck and let out a sob as two medical staff entered and quickly injected a red liquid into the inside of his elbow.

"Chuck," she begged. 27 watched her.

The two medics left, and the control team on the other side began to work on their computers. Soon, what looked like small lightening flecks began appearing.

"Will it hurt him?" She asked, panicked.

"Trust me. Physical pain means nothing now."

And right on cue, Chuck's eyes opened and he let out a howl, his body nearly lifting off the bed.

Blair took a deep breath and counted in her head and closed her hand around the item in her jacket pocket.

As if by magic, the lights of the control room went out and the lightening that was flashing suddenly stopped, leaving Chuck quiet. This snapped 27's head up.

"What the-"

Blair pulled the needle from her pocket and roughly jabbed it in 27's arm.

27 reacted and pushed Blair off, sending her across the room and into a wall. Blair lay dazed on the floor for a minute as she looked at 27, who managed to pull the now-empty needle from her arm.

She looked wild-eyed at Blair.

Blair staggered to her feet and watched her carefully.

"Who's helping you?" 27 demanded as she held onto the wall.

Blair said nothing and walked out. She knew the plan in her head as she walked calmly to the next room and began to descend the stairs. Before her was the number pad, and she said the numbers out loud as she entered them.

"87, 41, 4, 66, 147, 8."

The pad beeped and the door slid open.

"Access granted," an electronic voice informed her.

She stepped in. In front of her lay Chuck, still bound, eyes closed. She walked quickly towards him and began to undo the straps. Once his legs were done, she went for his arms. The moment his arms were free, he reached out, grabbed her neck and backed her into the wall. His eyes slowly opened to look at her. They were glazed.

"Chuck," She choked out, grasping at his strong hands.

He looked at her and then blinked. He let got of her, as if burned, and backed up.

"Blair?" He whispered.

The looked at each other for a moment. She held her neck as he searched her eyes.

She finally snapped out of her shock and stepped forward.

"Chuck, c'mon. We need to leave," she urged him, reaching out for him.

"Is this a trick?" He demanded, his eyes narrowed, standing before her strong and proud.

She shook her head quickly.

"We have a thirteen-minute window." She looked around the room.

"Who's helping you?" He asked, coming closer, taking her in. "You died."

"I didn't, please come on, we're wasting time." She went to touch him.

"You've wasted too much time."

They both turned and found 27 before them, eyes narrowed, clutching her arm.

It was bleeding from the slice. Blair scrunched her face when she realized 27 had cut it and there was blood in her lips because the sick bitch had attempted to suck the liquid out.

"What did you give me?" She demanded.

Chuck stood instinctively in front of Blair, defending her. Blair clutched at his arm.

"What did you give me?"

27 pulled out a gun and aimed it Chuck. Blair knew she wouldn't hesitate.

"Two seconds." 27's voice shook slightly, pain in her eyes.

"The cleansing serum," Blair admitted.

Chuck turned to her with questioning eyes, and then looked back at 27, who looked pale and horrified.

"You bitch," 27 whispered and gave into the pain going through her body, falling to the floor.

"C'mon, Blair," Chuck reached for Blair's hand as 27 began to twitch.

"What's happening?" Blair asked as he picked up the discarded gun next to 27.

"It's undoing her cleansing. And once you're un-cleansed, you can't be cleansed again," Chuck said quietly.

27 stopped twitching and moaning and slowly looked up at them. "Jonathan," She whispered.

Chuck tugged at Blair to walk out.

27 stood, and Chuck pointed the gun at her. The woman held her trembling hands up and calmly walked to computer portal on the side of the room.

"You won't get far, unless…" Her voice was soft and Blair felt she was looking at a whole new person. They watched her as she went through a few screens and finally placed her right thumb over the screen.

"Deleting agent file," Blair heard the computerized voice say and she sighed, pressing her forehead to Chuck's shoulder. This was the last bit of the plan.

Chuck studied 27 as she turned to face them.

"Kill me," 27 pleaded, and Blair had to look away from the woman's haunted eyes. "I did this for you. I'm asking you to kill me. They won't track you, not when you don't exist. You know that. They'll kill me eventually, but that'll be in a few days, and I can't…"

Chuck swallowed, his jaw twitching.

"Let's go," Blair pleaded, pulling his arm.

"Please, Bass, kill me – don't leave me like this!" 27 cried, reaching out for him.

Chuck backed away from her.

"They killed him because of me, please kill me, please," and she began to sob.

Blair felt Chuck tense in her arms, and she pulled him towards her again.

"Chuck." She touched his face. He turned slowly to look at her, touching her face, taking her in.

"We need to go," she whispered.

Chuck looked down at the gun in his hand and tossed it to 27. 27 smiled, holding the gun to her chest as if it were her lost puppy. Without hesitation, the woman pressed the barrel to her temple and pulled the trigger.

Blair jumped and cried out, holding onto him and looking away from the mess before them. He was breathing deeply, but that didn't deter him. He grasped onto Blair's hand for dear life, and they walked out of the room.

"Who's helping us?" He asked her once they had exited the underground facility and had been driving for a few miles.

"Someone who wanted 27 out of the way," she responded.

He looked at her.

"You were in on it?" He demanded.

She gulped and looked down. "I had to think fast, I didn't know what else to do. They would've made me forget about you, and I just-" she stopped herself. She was babbling.

He nodded and reached out for her. She willingly went to his arms, letting him kiss her head as he kept his eyes on the road.

"You really want to do this?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

--

"In all my years with Sector, I have never witnessed such a complete and utter loss of control from my management team. An escaped agent with no encrypted file in the system along with loss of vital information about the captured girl." The man before her paced back and forth. "My Sector team leader blowing her own brains out with her own gun, a compromised control room… Complete and utter chaos!"

Misty sat calmly, legs crossed, hands on her lap.

"I find it even more interesting that this supposed escaped agent is rumored to be your son. Do you care to elaborate on this bit of news?"

Misty looked him straight in the eye. "I'm sure studying my behavioral file will determine if there are emotional ties linked to this supposed agent, with whom I've never had contact."

"Of course there are no links. His file is gone along with any ties!" The man barked.

"How very unfortunate," she stated calmly.

The man studied her, looking her over with a snarl. "I suppose it's very convenient that with 27 out of the way, you are in complete and total control of Sector 14."

"Yes, one could see it that way."

"How very fortunate," he spit out.

"Is that all?" She asked, uncrossing her well-shaped legs.

"If I find that you had anything to do with this entire mess, I will have you and your former family cancelled," he threatened.

She stood and looked at him eye-level.

"Proof, Liam," she whispered. "Was it not you who taught me on my first day that without proof everything is vapor?"

She looked him up and down.

"You can't catch vapor, Liam, dear. It'll go right through your fingers. I suppose I'll expect you tonight? Nine-nish?"

She gave him a cold smile and walked out of the room.

--

"I'm leaving," Dan finally said, standing up.

The rest of the people in the room looked at him, shocked.

"I mean, c'mon! It's been 6 hours!" He pleaded. "Someone is playing you, Serena!"

"What exactly did they tell you?" Bart spoke up from his spot next to Lily. He stared his stepdaughter down.

Serena looked around, eyes wide and hopeful. "The caller said that if I wanted to know Blair's whereabouts that we should all be at this place at this time and have patience."

"Someone could be playing you, Serena," Nate offered quietly. I mean, he was the first to want information on Blair. He desperately wanted information on Blair. He'd hardly slept thinking that she had been taken and they would find her body soon.

"They said not to contact the police, because it could jeopardize everything," Serena pleaded. "Just… let's just wait for a few more hours. I'm afraid if one of us leaves we'll never heard from her-"

And then the door opened.

They all froze. They weren't expecting anyone else.

Huddled together in the room were: Nate, Jenny, Serena, Dan, Bart, Lily, Eric, Vanessa and, of course, Eleanor, who was pale and quiet next to Lily. No one was missing. No one but Blair.

And of course, it was a wet-haired Blair that walked in. She was dressed in low-end white sweat pants and a tight white shirt. On her feet were flip flops, and she looked like she had just exited the shower.

They had never seen her like this.

Eleanor and Serena gasped; her mother grabbed Blair, enveloping her in her arms.

"Blair!"

The room was abuzz with talk as they all gathered around her.

"Did they hurt you?"

"How did you get away?"

"Are you alright?"

"Why haven't you called?"

Blair extracted herself from her mother's sobbing form and turned to an equally emotional Serena.

"B!" Serena cried, touching her face.

"I'm fine, everyone. I'm fine," she assured them.

Nate's eyes were wide as he looked at her, and she looked away. He instantly noticed.

"Listen, just please let me talk!" She begged, but they continued their questions and their hugging.

"Let her breathe!" Bart finally shouted. He grabbed Blair's hand and pulled her out of the crowd around. Blair held on to him, almost afraid of the frenzy her friends and family had caused.

"Are you alright?" Bart asked, looking down at her as the rest of them looked on.

"Yes, thank you." She let go of him and turned to face them all. "I'm so sorry I put you all through that. I didn't mean to. It was not in our plans."

"Our plans?" Nate asked, confused.

She glanced at him before she looked at the rest of them.

"I was not taken. I left of my own free-will," she said carefully. All their eyes were wide and confused. "I couldn't call anyone because… I would've jeopardized the life of the person I was with, along with my own."

"You ran away?" Eleanor said, as if this was worse than her being tragically killed.

"Yes and no. We didn't mean to. We had no choice." She attempted to explain.

"Did you…" Nate studied her. "Did you run away with a guy?"

At her silence, he didn't know if he should be relieved or insulted. The rest of them looked on uncomfortably.

"Yes," she whispered and looked down.

Eleanor's mouth formed a perfect O. Lily looked uncomfortable, Jenny looked elated, and Eric was smiling.

"It's not what you all think," she said quickly. "I need…" she looked at them. "I need you all to sit down, and I will show you," she turned to Bart and urged him to do the same.

Bart nodded and sat down; the rest of them followed his lead.

"Blair, honey," Eleanor began.

"Mom, please," Blair quieted her. "Just… what I'm going to show you is going to shock you. It's going to shock you all. But let me assure you it's real, ok?"

The entire UES crowd (and a few Brooklynites) sat watching her apprehensively. They had all been worried at one point or another about her mental health.

Blair made sure they were all sitting down and giving her their full attention. She swallowed and nodded.

"Just be calm," she accentuated.

Some of them nodded.

She walked to the door and slowly opened it, pulling from behind the door an equally wet Charles Bartholomew Bass.

The room fell silent as they stared at Chuck. Chuck slowly looked up and took them in.

"Family," he stated in such a Chuck-like manner that Eleanor and Jenny screamed, Eric blanched, and Blair was pretty sure everyone else was wondering if they were having an out-of-body experience.

"It's Chuck. He's alive and… and he's back," Blair said carefully.

Bart was the first to stand up, eyes wide as he took in his son. Chuck didn't know if he could look at his father in the eye, but he did. He now stood almost as tall as his father, same stance and pose and same hard eyes.

"Charles?" His father whispered, searching his face.

"Father," Chuck finally acknowledged. His jaw twitched.

Bart was looking at him, open-mouthed. He let out a breath and pulled his son against him, holding on this head as he let out a sob.

"Charles," Bart whispered hoarsely.

Lily let out her own sob along with Serena, and Blair got teary-eyed as she lost Chuck's hand because he had to hold his father close.

Nate was standing mouth-opened, looking pale. Blair walked to him and took his hand. He slowly looked down at her, eyes wide.

"He's alive," Nate said, phrasing it as more of a question.

"Yeah." She smiled at him.

Nate searched her face and nodded, a smile forming on his lips. He pulled her against him and hugged her fiercely. Blair let him and ignored how wet his tears were making her shoulder. Her hair was already wet, after all.

After Bart finally pulled away, Chuck was attacked by a violently teary Serena, who hugged him until he looked desperately at Blair. Blair asked them to give Chuck some air.

Nate was next and the two best friends faced each other. Nate no longer cared that his face was wet. Chuck slowly extended his hand to Nate, who looked down at it and took it, pulling his once-dead best friend in for a manly hug. By the time it ended, nearly all the women in the room were sobbing harder than before.

When they all were emotionally exhausted, they finally sat down, most of them still looking at Chuck like he was a ghost. Eric sat next to his stepbrother, never taking his eyes off him and Blair sat on his other side, clutching his hand.

Bart sat across from Chuck, utterly embarrassed at having broken down so pathetically.

"I can't say much," Chuck began while they all quietly listened. "It'll be best that way. Just know that I didn't leave of my own will."

"I demand that we report them, Charles," his father interjected.

Chuck looked at his father and shook his head. "No, father."

Bart was taken back by the man before him and slowly nodded. Chuck had left no room for questioning.

"I've done things that… I'm not particularly proud of." Chuck continued. "And I'm certainly not the guy you all knew."

Dan gave him a reassuring smile, and Chuck nodded at his direction. He noticed Serena and Dan were wearing matching ring-bands. His family just continued to expand.

"It's going to take…" Chuck took a deep breath, and Blair squeezed his hand. "… some time." He looked at her, and Nate smiled a full smile as the couple stared at each other.

"We're thinking if we leave the country and perhaps join Daddy in France for a while, that would be best. Too many people would recognize Chuck here and too many questions will be asked."

Eleanor nodded.

"Yes," Bart agreed. "It's too dangerous."

"Maybe in a few years… when the name Chuck Bass doesn't really mean much maybe we can release something along the lines of my running away and not dying," Chuck said quietly, glancing at his father.

His father looked at him and nodded.

"So…" Lily began, glancing between Blair and Chuck's intertwined fingers, and Nate.

Nate noticed and cleared his throat.

"Oh, Lily – no." He looked at Blair. "Blair and I actually broke up a few days before she disappeared."

Blair and Chuck stared at Nate.

"I'm actually seeing…" He turned to Jenny, who was nearly hidden behind her brother. "Jenny. Jenny Humphrey."

Eleanor and Lily both turned to study Jenny and nodded, eyebrows raised.

"Oh."

Serena looked between the three of them and studied Blair, skeptically.

Chuck looked on at Nate and the two nodded. An unspoken conversation flowing between them.

"I'll arrange a plane for you both tonight, I think," Bart finally said.

"I'll call Harold. He's been so worried – he'll be elated to have you both there." Eleanor said, standing up. "Perhaps I should join you?"

Blair looked at her mom and quickly shook her head.

"Mom, give us a week, at least," Blair begged with her eyes.

"Actually, give us two," Chuck finally said, and the tension dissipated as they laughed at his typical statement and Blair swatted him.

--

Please read epilogue


	7. Epilogue: Those that Watch

**Those That Watch** (Epilogue of _'The Once & Future Bass'_) \

"_When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist_

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)

Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos

Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators.

--

"_Wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure." The Alchemist_

_3 years later / Paris, France_

"No, Alexander! Your clothes!" Blair chided her nephew as he climbed on top of Chuck. Chuck easily grabbed Alex and tossed him over his shoulder.

"Go find your mom," he said as he placed him down. Alex stuck his tongue out at Blair and went running to the kitchen.

Blair shook her head, and he smiled at her.

"He's a kid," he explained.

"I swear, mine will be well behaved," she explained to him.

"You're going to bear me some robotic children?" He asked, smirking, pulling her against him.

Her protruding belly prevented them from being as close as they were used to.

"Not robotic," she said as if she were talking to a five year old. He nodded and captured her lips in his.

"The kids are around!"

They were interrupted by an even more pregnant Serena as she waddled in with bags of presents in her hands. Chuck quickly went to help her, grabbing the bags from her.

"We saw one of them," Blair said sarcastically as Serena kissed Chuck on the cheek, smiling at him in thanks.

Chuck allowed the kiss on the cheek because that was better than her getting emotional once more. She got especially emotional while pregnant, and Dan would look at him for support. He supposed this is what brothers did.

"Are they here yet?" He asked as he set the presents under the large tree.

"No, Eric said he thinks they're making out on the plane." Serena sat down next to Blair. Both looked down at their bellies. "Being pregnant sucks," Serena pouted as they studied her swollen ankles.

"Then why do you keep conceiving?" Blair demanded.

"Because the sex is-"

Both Blair and Chuck groaned.

"Oh, so I can hear all about your christening the new château, but you all can't hear about me and Dan?" She snapped.

"They're here," Dan said, poking his head in with a struggling Alex in his arms.

"Aunt Jenny!" Alex squealed and wiggled out of his father's arms, running down the hallway.

"She's always spoiling him. I told you she needs to stop spoiling him," Blair said to Serena as Chuck helped her stand up.

"Chuck is always spoiling him," Dan interjected.

Blair turned and glared at Chuck.

Chuck ignored her and waltzed down the hallway.

"B, relax. It's Christmas. You think Chuck is bad? Bart is even worse." Blair pulled Serena up and their bellies bumped. They both groaned.

"We're gross," Blair stated. "I bet the skinny bitch is all… skinny."

They both turned to look down the hallways were they could hear Chuck and Nate greeting each other.

"I bet she's still size negative two," Serena admitted, frowning. The best friends nearly growled.

"I hate him, you know. For knocking me up. Remember when he tried in high school?" Blair said as they walked down the hall.

"I thought you didn't know whose it was," Serena eyed Blair.

"Oh, it would've totally been his. Trust me," Blair snipped, and Dan shook his head. The conversations these two had sometimes…

Jenny was skinny, alright and Blair gave Serena a knowing look as Jenny kissed Alexander.

"Oh my god, Blair you look so cute!" Jenny squealed and Blair grimaced as she was enveloped.

"Yes, I have connections with Yves Saint Laurent and they designed some special maternity wear just for me," Blair said snottily.

"Is it Emilio? He's such a doll!" Jenny said, lacing her arm with Blair. Chuck smirked at her as she was led away by the stick-figure-with-no-soul.

"She'll be due any minute now," Nate smiled at Chuck. Chuck ran his hands through his hair and nodded.

"Nate!" Serena hugged him and he awkwardly held her.

"Wow!" Nate looked down at her belly as she stood next to Dan.

"Dad's here," Chuck said, looking behind Nate as a gray limo pulled up.

"Oh, good! Harold hates to start late, he and Roman are finishing the fois-gras with the help of Chef Julian, of course," Serena smiled, taking Alex with her as they went to the kitchen.

Dan pulled Nate in and helped him with his coat as they talked about New York.

Chuck watched his father and Lily walk to the entry and greeted Lily warmly.

"I want to see my daughters," Lily told him, patting his cheek.

"She wants pictures of the pregnant girls," Bart explained, taking off his scarf and handing it to a waiting butler.

"Down the hall, Lily. Follow the noise," Chuck told her and turned to greet his father.

"You look well," Bart told him, squeezing his shoulder.

"I am well," Chuck nodded.

Then both men looked out into the street. A few cars were parked, a few others passed.

They looked at each other because they both had felt… something.

"That was strange," his father said and shook his head.

Chuck stared off into the evening sky.

"Yeah," he said quietly, then closed the door behind them as the smell of good food greeted their nostrils.

--

From her car, Misty watched her two men look in her general direction and then turn towards the house. Smoke was coming out of the chimney and snow was beginning to fall. She smiled sadly. It would be a good Christmas.

She instructed her driver to drive on as she slid her sunglasses in their place. The New York Times on her lap.

_Bass heir once presumed dead now alive and well, living in France with expecting wife. No comments from the Bass family._

The End

A/N - Thank you so much for all those of you who have left me all this feedback! I hope you enjoyed the story. If you're interested in more fics, you're welcomed to check out my profile for more one-shots and some favorites that I def. recommend.


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